


A Visitor to the North

by murphysmistake



Series: A Visitor [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Character Development, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Character's name spelled as Yuuri, Dancing, Dark Magic, Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Elemental Magic, Enemies to Lovers, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Fairy Tale Elements, Flirting, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Katsuki Yuuri Has Many People Who Love Him, Loss, Love, M/M, Magic, Manipulation, Memory Alteration, Misunderstandings, Peasant!Yuuri, Politics, Reconciliation, Revenge, Romance, Royal Ball, Seriousness Increases By Chapter, Slow Burn, Some dark themes, Travel, Violence, king!Viktor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-06-16 04:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murphysmistake/pseuds/murphysmistake
Summary: Yuuri lived a peaceful life in his village until the King passed though, bringing his past demons with him. And, to make matters worse, a misunderstanding between them turns Yuuri into a wanted criminal.It's one thing to plan revenge by hiding in your ancestral home, practicing magic, and planning on waltzing into the throne room and lodging an arrow in his neck.It's another thing, though, when you're invited to his royal ball...





	1. A Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri’s time off is interrupted by news of a special visitor and is then unfathomably embarrassed for a bit. Later, he takes a trip to the store.

Days like these were Yuuri's favorite. He would sit under his favorite oak tree and relax. Today he brought some sewing to keep his hands busy, but focusing on his work became difficult when the breeze picked up. How could he continue when it kissed his scalp and cooled his skin? He looked out at the grass waves and allowed himself to become mesmerized. That’s why he loved this spot: it always had a new surprise for him. Earlier that spring, a family of birds built a nest in his oak. The trees that hid his small meadow from Hasetsu Road would also house more nests come summer. In a few weeks, it would be time for his favorite kind of wildflower to bloom throughout the field, peaking their friendly, purple faces from under the tall grass. Yuuri gently sat his sewing in his lap and placed his hands on the cold, moist earth beneath him. He almost didn’t want to leave, but the bugs would get bad an hour before dark, so he should probably head back home. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The world smelled soft and fresh. This place was truly special. Hidden from the road and completely untouched, Yuuri felt whole and at peace.

“Yuuri!” He startled, looking towards the trees.

"Hello, Minami!” Yuuri called as Minami approached, out of breath.

“Yuuri!” Minami gasped, “Guess-“ he swallowed dryly, “-Guess who is staying in the village tonight at your Inn!”

“I don’t know.” Yuuri gave in easily, but Minami began pulling on his arm.

“It’s one of the Kingsmen! He’s – get up – he’s checking out Hasetsu for the King to pass through on his – Yuuri, get up! – on his way to the Southern Kingdom! How cool is that?!”

“The King?” Yuuri stood. Minami nodded. “Our King?” Minami nodded harder. When he was younger, Yuuri was fascinated by the royal family. Beautiful and powerful, they were protectors of the Northern Kingdom, rising easily above the rulers of surrounding kingdoms but not letting greed eclipse their love of their people. But, after the War, the North’s beloved rulers were seceded by their son who had all the glitter of his parents but none of their wisdom. Simply put, Yuuri mildly disliked him.

“Yeah! Your parents asked me to fetch you so you could meet the Kingsmen. Let’s go!” Yuuri quickly gathered his things in his basket and followed Minami out of the meadow and onto the main road home. Yuuri’s eyes were forced to adjust coming from the bright field. The tree in the center was all the shade there was. Hasetsu Road, on the other hand, was lined on both sides with trees. They were careful not to step in the mud that was left over from yesterday’s showers. To his knowledge, the King hadn’t passed through Hasetsu more than once. Yuuri couldn’t have been older than nine or ten. He remembers holding his mother’s hand as the then-Prince passed their Inn. He was riding a white stallion that was almost as white as his long hair. His blue cape fluttered behind him and occasionally flipped to reveal a gold embroidery of the royal family crest. The golden crown that rested upon his head sparkled in the afternoon sun and seemed just as fragile as the snowflakes that made its shape. The Prince had smiled warmly, as if there were no problems in the world. Yuuri wondered what the King looked like now. Had his coronation aged him? Yuuri hoped so.

“Do you think that the King will stay at your Inn?” Minami asked.

“I’m not sure. The Kingsmen are probably worried about his safety, so he may just be passing through. But, now that I think about it, it would make more sense if the King was staying for a night or two. I mean, why else would the Kingsman stay at the Inn and not camp out?”

“Wouldn’t it be awesome if the King stayed at your Inn? Think of him bathing in your hotspring! Wait, but what if his ice magic freezes it or something?”

“The King can probably control what he freezes,” Yuuri answered confidently, but he really wasn’t sure. The only magic users in Hasetsu were Phichit’s parents, and, to his knowledge, they could control their magic. Yuuri became lost in his thoughts and didn’t notice Minami slowing down from his brisk pace.

“Hey, Yuuri…” Minami stopped completely.

“What’s wrong?” Tucking his basket under his hip, Yuuri stopped as well.

“I don’t want to intrude, but I’ve wanted to ask you this for a while…” he tensed, “Can I hang out with you at your secret meadow sometime?”

“Yeah, you can come with me anytime, but bring something to read, okay?” Yuuri smiled and Minami cupped his cheeks with his hands, beaming and blushing.

“Thank you!”

 

* * *

 

When Yuuri reached the Inn and said goodbye to Minami, it was late afternoon. He would have been home by dark if he had taken his time, but with Minami pulling his arm, the travel time was well reduced. Yuuri was happy to pick up the pace, though. He was excited to meet the visiting Kingsman. Despite his lack of admiration for the King, Yuuri was enchanted by the royal guards. It wasn’t easy, after all, to become a Kingsman. Only those handpicked by the sitting monarch with the recommendation of the highest general can join one of the strongest military units in the world. It was a great honor for the Katsuki family to host a Kingsman.

These thoughts and more kept him preoccupied as he entered his family’s Inn. He began to take off his shoes, but a large dog knocked him from his daydream and pushed him to the floor. He greeted it kindly; after all, passing travelers would often have animal companions. As long as any pets were well behaved and didn’t sit in the hot spring, the Katsuki Inn was one-hundred percent pet-friendly. It made Yuuri a little sad to realize how similar this dog was to his old puppy. He felt a twinge in his heart, and the dog must have sensed Yuuri’s sudden change in mood. It began to lick Yuuri’s face and nudge him fondly.

“Welcome home, Yuuri! I’m happy to see that the Kingman’s dog has taken a liking to you.” His mother smiled.

“So, this is the Kingsman’s dog?” The dog boofed and sat on Yuuri’s foot.

“Doesn’t it look like Vicchan?” They shared a smile, “By the way, you’ll have to thank Minami for me next time you see him. I offered to give him some bread in return for finding you, but he declined. Did you have a nice time on your walk?” Yuuri nodded in response.

“Did he tell you how long he’ll be staying? The Kingsman?” His mother took his basket, allowing Yuuri to lift himself off the floor. The dog nuzzled his leg, asking to be pet again.

“Only for a couple of days. I’ll introduce you when he comes down for dinner. Why don’t you go upstairs and see if Mari’s finished setting up the Kingsman’s room? Your father could also use your help in the kitchen later.”

“Okay, I will. Also, thank you for making me lunch today, mom!”

“Of course, Yuuri.” She kissed his cheek and handed his basket back. The dog followed as he made his way towards the Kingsman’s room, his paws making a nice rhythm against the wood floors.

“Thanks for making the bed. I’m going to go help dad with dinner. Could you put these up?” Mari leaned up against the door and handed Yuuri leftover pillows.

“Which linen closet did you get these from?” He took them from her, making sure not to drop any.

“The one near your room.”

“Alright. Thanks.” He made his way down the hall, keenly aware of where the dog was. At this point, it would break Yuuri’s heart if he accidentally stepped on the dog’s paw or something. He passed by a window that overlooked the hotspring and stopped when he saw the Kingsman stepping out of the water. He was… gorgeous. Strong, dark. Yuuri felt bad for staring, but he was overwhelmed with admiration. The Kingsman must have worked so hard to become strong like that. He couldn’t even imagine how determined one must be to even _consider_ becoming a Kingsmen. You essentially devote your entire life to the royal family and spend every day putting yourself in harm’s way just to protect them.

And one of these incredible knights were staying at his Inn! Yuuri smiled to himself, leaning against the door frame. The Kingsman grabbed a towel from the bench and began to dry himself. His back was now to Yuuri who could see very well, even from such a distance, the scars that covered his body like an animal print.

Suddenly, the Kingsman turned his head and made direct eye contact with him. Yuuri’s stomach dropped. He jumped away from the window and ran to the linen closet. Back pressed against the door, he let out a deep breath and felt his heart pound. Why had that scared him like that? Did the Kingsman use some kind of magic?

“That… was intense.” Yuuri said to no one. The dog nudged Yuuri’s leg, reminding him that it was there. He gave it a nice pat on the head and sighed. “It’s strange to think that someone so serious would have you as a dog.”

“That’s not my dog.” Yuuri jumped and accidentally scared the dog, pillows falling to the floor with a soft _puff_. The Kingsman was standing right there, fully dressed in the traditional Kingsman uniform: light, breathable armor with the royal crest on the front and back of the chestplate. The armor was black, but the undershirt and pants were deep blue and white, the royal colors. Yuuri didn’t even hear him coming. How did he get changed so quickly?

“I’m so sorry, sir, I-“ he cut Yuuri off.

“No need to worry,” then, after an uncomfortable pause, “Her name is Makkachin.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Hello, Makkachin,” another pause, “Well, yeah, uh, I’m going to go help with dinner! Thank you!” He shoved the pillows into the linen closet and fled the scene with the dog close behind.

_How embarrassing!_

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Mari commented.

“I might have.” Makkachin nudged his leg.

“Well, Mr. Ghosthunter, can you prepare one of the tables for our guest, please?” His mother teased. He took several napkins and cups, arranging them on the table carefully. Returning to the kitchen, he really hoped that Mari would be willing to serve the Kingsman in his place. He was too embarrassed to interact with him at all.

“Mom said it’s okay if I went ahead to bed early. I’m glad you got some alone time today, so I did all the chores. I was hoping you could do some serving tonight." She was right. That was very fair.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for covering for me today.” They shared a smile and she dismissed herself. Yuuri took a deep breath and headed back out. There were no other guests at the Inn tonight

“Good evening, sir,” The Kingsman didn’t respond. “Tonight, we’ve prepared for you a local favorite: katsudon. We hope you enjoy. Please, let me know if there is anything I can get for you.” The Kingsman nodded and moved his hands, allowing Yuuri to place the bowl on the table in front of him. The Kingsman didn’t say anything at all, so Yuuri took that as permission to leave. When he returned to the safety of the kitchen, he inhaled deeply.

“I want to die.”

“What happened, Yuuri?” His mother asked from across the kitchen.

“It’s nothing. I just had an embarrassing experience with the Kingsman.” She looked worried, so he added, “Nothing embarrassing to the family! It was just an awkward encounter.”

“Well, I think your father and I can handle it from here if you want to go to bed, since you were out walking for so long. You’re probably tired-“

"No, mom!” Yuuri violently shook his head, “I can help! I promise!”

“It’s alright.” His father reassured, suddenly appearing. “We can handle it. Besides, there’s no one else staying at the Inn tonight, so we can take care of things. Are you hungry? I can make you some katsudon before you go to bed.” Yuuri sighed.

“I just don’t want to be a slacker. I didn’t really do much today…”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. Eat some dinner and go to bed. We’ve got a big day tomorrow preparing for the King’s visit,” and as soon as she said it, she gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

“Hiroko!”

“So the King really is coming?” Yuuri asked.

“Nobody was really supposed to know until tomorrow…” His father panned. Yuuri’s mother laughed nervously and held her hands.

“It’ll be okay! Just don’t tell anyone yet!” His father gave her an exasperated look, but Yuuri saw him smile as he turned back to his cooking.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri sat in his room, feeling quite full. After his mother (accidentally) broke the news, Yuuri didn’t notice that Makkachin had disappeared from his side. He felt instantly bad when he pushed open the door to his room and found her asleep in his bed. How could he forget about her? He also wondered, briefly, if she had been fed, but these thoughts were quickly dismissed when he remembered how much his mother fed Vicchan.

“Makkachin, what if I was allergic to dogs?” He complained as he attempted to maneuver her around so that he would also have room to sleep. She opened her eyes and stood up on the bed, allowing Yuuri to tuck himself in under the comforter. When he was settled, she walked in a circle before lying herself down by his legs. Sleeping with a dog like this again warmed his heart. It had been years since Vicchan had passed away, and his family had decided not to get another dog in fear of losing it again. Yuuri had forgotten, though, how nice it was to have a companion.

As cliché as it sounds, Mari had found little Vicchan in the rain when she and Yuuri were playing in the outskirts of Hasetsu Forest. Yuuri couldn’t have been older than ten, if his memory serves him. They carried the little puppy home and begged, absolutely begged, their mother to keep him. She was, of course, on the fence, but agreed to keep him if and only if they talked with every family in Hasetsu to make sure it wasn’t theirs and swore their commitment to taking care of it. Those were, of course, small tasks compared to the reward of a new family member! And what a loved family member Vicchan was. The Katsuki’s grieved for his passing but would always be grateful for all the gifts he gave them when he was alive.

 

* * *

 

Mari’s laughter woke Yuuri up. Makkachin had pushed him to the edge of the bed sometime during the night. She had visited his room to wake him, but the sight of her tightly-wound baby brother being pushed off the bed by a Kingsman’s dog was too funny.

The Katsukis and the Kingsmen spent the morning preparing for the King’s visit. New bedding was fitted to each room, everything everywhere had to be cleaned, closets were rummaged through then reorganized, etc., etc.. The Kingsman had given Yuuri’s parents a rough estimate of the number of men that would be staying with them, and, simply put, it was overwhelming, far more than the usual traffic they received. But the Inn could handle it. The Katsukis could handle it. There were enough rooms if the Kingsmen roomed in groups of two or three, with the exception of the King and his Hand, who would have separate rooms.

The most difficult part of the morning, though, was not cleaning or re-organizing, but being told that certain things had not been clean or organized _enough_. The Kingsman was partly to responsible for this, but Yuuri’s mother’s sky-high standards were mostly to blame. She even went so far as to make Mari and Yuuri dig through the attic to find bedding “nice enough for our King.” Neither Mari nor Yuuri had any clue as to what this meant, but they certainly tried their hardest.

By lunchtime, everyone was exhausted.

“We are serving sandwiches for lunch. Is that okay with you, sir?” Mari asked. The Kingsman nodded, and, as soon as she left, gestured for Yuuri to sit beside him. Yuuri smiled nervously and lowered himself to sit by the Kingsman’s side. As he turned towards him, Yuuri realized he had never really looked the Kingsman in the eye before. He was quite handsome, but much younger than what Yuuri expected. In fact, he was probably younger than Yuuri.

“Yuuri, what are your hobbies?” Well, that was direct.

“I spend a lot of time helping around the Inn, but I also like to sew and read.” The Kingsman took a sip of water. Yuuri took this opportunity to ask something that had been bugging him all morning. “I’m sorry, but I want to make sure I’m pronouncing your name correctly…”

“Otabek,” Otabek said, maintaining eye contact with Yuuri. There was an awkward pause before Yuuri’s mother called from the kitchen.

“Yuuri!” She appeared at the door. “Can you go into town and run some quick errands?” He nodded, excused himself from Otabek’s table, and happily looked over her grocery list. Secretly, he was glad she interrupted his conversation. Also, it was always nice to step out of the house on beautiful spring days like this. It gave him some time to think, to process.

He didn’t show it to his family, but Yuuri was feeling very anxious about the King’s visit. Uncertainty is, after all, the root of all anxiety. If only Otabek had told them exactly when the King was coming. Instead, he had just reported that “The King would arrive soon.” Honestly, Yuuri had become more bitter towards the King in the past few hours than the past decade. He hoped a beautiful spring day might help him calm down.

When Yuuri stepped outside, though, he realized he was not in for a relaxing walk. In fact, he would probably need to run back inside and grab a coat. Cold weather? How strange! It was still early on in the spring; chilly days were not uncommon, but it had been warming up for a few weeks now. Strange weather indeed, but he dismissed it in favor of the matter at hand. He began the walk into town. Yuuri estimated that the total trip, shopping and all, would probably take two hours. Was two hours enough to relax?  
He strolled down Hasetsu Road with his basket and notebook with the shopping list. Stepping over a carriage track, he wondered why anyone would ever want to ride in a carriage when they could walk. In a carriage, you can’t take in the full outdoors. Sure, walking might take longer and use up more energy, but being in the moment and being _free_ has always been worth it.

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri! I’m so happy to see you again!” His best friend, Phichit, sung as Yuuri walked into the door of the town’s market. Strolling over to the desk that separated Phichit from the rest of the room, he held out his hands for an over-the-counter hug.

“Hey, Phichit!” After embracing, Yuuri pulled out his notebook and flipped to the grocery list.

The Chulunot's store wasn’t fancy like stores in the Capital probably were, but it was cozy. It catered usually to the citizens of Hasetsu and travelers passing through, so there was no need for frivolous décor. Phichit sat behind a small desk located in the corner of the room facing the entrance. He seemed to be updating a notebook where his family recorded purchases before Yuuri arrived, and slipped it into the drawer where their change was stored. In the store lining the walls were similar tables with various goods stacked on and under them. Eggs, wheat, fresh bread from the bakery, anything you could possibly need in a small town. In the middle of the room sat a circular, grass-green carpet, which Yuuri has always been fascinated with. Imagine all of the boots that have stepped on this rug! Someone who has been inside the King’s castle or another kingdom might have stepped on this rug. How cool!

“Four dozen eggs, nine chickens, forty trillion tons of flour, _sugar_?!… Oh my God, Yuuri! You’d think that the King is coming!” He leaned close to Yuuri over the desk. “So….. I’ve heard rumors that the King is coming.”

Yuuri clammed up. “Uh, I can… I can neither confirm nor deny-“

“Aw, Yuuri! Come on! I’m your best friend~!” Yuuri shrugged apologetically. Phichit sighed, “Fine, whatever. Here, I’ll help you grab all this. Do you want to borrow an extra basket for the walk home? This seems like a lot to carry.”

"Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks, Phichit.” They exchanged smiles and a basket, and Phichit hopped over the desk.

“So,” he said, grabbing Yuuri’s list, “go ahead and count out four dozen eggs. I’ll go ahead and grab the meat and milk from the icebox.” They were careful to collect the exact amount of groceries that Yuuri’s mother requested. After all, she was the last person Yuuri wanted to upset.

“And… here’s the money.” Yuuri sighed, fishing through his pocket. Phichit was back behind the desk attempting to record all of Yuuri’s baskets.

“Thanks.” He slid it in the drawer, “Hey, let’s hang out sometime. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Phichit, I saw you two days ago. You stopped by the Inn and everything.”

“I am perfectly aware of that, Katsuki Yuuri! I guess I just enjoy being with my best friend. Not like you’d know the feeling or anything.” He turned away and crossed his arms dramatically, ending his monologue with a _humph_.

“Yeah, I’m only friends with you because you give me discounts.” Yuuri laughed, then turned towards the door. “Bye, Phichit!” He called, walking out.

“Wait a minute? Discounts?!” Phichit opened the desk drawer and checked Yuuri’s payment against his record book. Yuuri was already twenty yards from the store when Phichit came running out.

“Oh, my god! Yuuri! You’re the worst for scaring me like that!”

Yuuri turned back and waved, basket in hand, “Love you! See you later!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor in the Night


	2. A Visitor in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King is attacked and confused.

       They had been traveling for years. Decades. A millennia. This had to be the longest journey in his entire life. He had no idea why Yakov wouldn’t let him ride his stallion instead of riding in a carriage. All the safety lectures Yakov put him through before this trip and none of them mentioned why he couldn’t ride by himself! Or, at least, he couldn’t remember if Yakov had mentioned why he couldn’t ride by himself. Something about safety and robbers and walking straight into nooses on horseback? Oh, well. He would have much rather rode by himself on Gabriel, like he did when he was younger. Now, he was locked up in a carriage. He wasn’t even allowed to look out the window!

       “My King, Yakov gave me special instructions to make sure that you don’t look out the window. For safety...” his Hand stated without looking up from his book, “But, honestly, I’m _very_ busy reading right now and not necessarily paying attention to what you do…”

       “Thanks, Chris.” Viktor smiled softly and pulled back the curtain to peer out the small window. The snow was truly breathtaking.

       “You know, I’m still upset that he insisted that Makka go with Otabek before you. I’m not much of a dog person, but she’s just so sweet."

       “I’m upset, too.” They both sighed. Chris flipped a page in his book.

       “Yakov means well. He really loves you, y’know. He _was_ the main advisor to your parents. And your grandparents. I mean, he essentially raised you.”

       “I’m not a child anymore, though.”

       “In his eyes, you are.” Silence. A page flip.

       “Chris, please alert the Kingsmen that I need to stop and walk around.” Another pause. It was dark outside, and they were almost to Hasetsu, but Viktor just couldn’t take this stuffy carriage anymore. He needed to be outside for a few minutes. To take a few breaths. Viktor could tell that Christophe was considering arguing against it, but he eventually knocked twice, loudly on the back wall of the carriage. It slowed to a halt. Christophe leaned towards the door.

       “Please let Yurio know that the King wishes to halt the party.” They heard shouting, and, after a few minutes, the door to his carriage opened.

       “It’s safe to come out, old man.” Yurio yelled. If it was anyone else, Viktor would not so much appreciate being called “old man,” but Yurio held a special place in his heart. He was absolutely loyal to the royal family, and, most of all, to Viktor. It was almost funny to think about everything he had been through. Yurio had been abandoned at the palace when he was barely a toddler. The staff had taken him in. He was raised by the cooks and soldiers and had become quite… foul-mouthed; however, everyone undoubtedly loved him like a little brother.

       Viktor stepped out of the carriage and onto the road. He was entirely surrounded by Kingsmen in full uniform. Since they were officially traveling with the King as representatives of the military and of the Capital, they all had to wear traditional military attire. Viktor wore white slacks with a white button down and dark blue cape. Down the sides of his pants and along the sleeves of his shirt ran a detailed, golden, leaf embroidery. On the back of his cape, he proudly displayed the royal crest. The Kingsmen, however, were certainly not as dapper with their traditional armor. They were all fashioned with diverse flavors of weapons, which, really, weren’t that fashionable.

       Viktor smiled, finally able to breathe!

       “Thank you! Ah, what a wonderful day!” He inhaled deeply, happy to be out in the snow again. He liked the feeling of his cape billowing gently behind him in the evening breeze. He took off his black, leather gloves and grabbed a handful of the fresh powder. It stayed cold in his hands. “Gorgeous.”

       He began walking around the carriage to a beautiful view of Hasetsu Forest. He wished he could walk the rest of the way.

       Viktor was certainly enjoying being alone for a moment (if alone meant a dozen Kingsmen no more than a few meters away from you) when he spotted something in the distance: a faint, blue, pulsing light. He looked around for any Kingsmen watching, and, when he found there were none, disappeared into the Forest beside the road. He shouldn’t have anything to worry about. After all, he was certainly the most dangerous thing in the Forest, being the most powerful ice magic user in the world.

       Mesmerized, Viktor walked deeper and deeper into trees, noticing how the voices of his guards faded into the snowy landscape. He didn’t look once behind him, however. He followed the light until he found its source: a hooded figure standing still, the tip of its outstretched finger glowing a shallow light blue. The wind picked up and the snow began to scratch at Viktor’s face. They both stood still, never breaking eye contact.

       “You,” It spoke. Its voice did not come from its body. Instead, it resonated from deep inside each tree that surrounded Viktor. It adopted a hundred different pitches and a hundred different voices, yet spoke as one. “You.” The end of its finger light up in the same hue as the light Viktor had seen before. “You.” It started glowing brighter, more ominous. Suddenly understanding he might be in grave danger, Viktor attempted to move; however, his feet had been encased in roots and tied to the earth where he stood. The light grew brighter. He could have used some of his ice magic, he _should_ have, but something was blocking him. Viktor attempted to summon an ice sword and failed. It felt like all the Light had drained from his body. He was alive, yes, but he felt hollow, soulless. The light on his opponent’s finger pulsed to an unbearable luminosity and Viktor shielded his eyes with his arm and almost screamed when he felt something press against him. It was warm and, after a couple moments, Viktor realized it was more protective in nature than aggressive. He uncovered his eyes.

       The creature between him and his attacker was dark and warm like coal. It seemed like the darkness and the depth of the sky was laid on the skin of this creature and the warmth of the sun with it. Speckles resembling distant stars twinkled within this being’s flesh, and Viktor was amazed by the fluidity of it. This creature looked truly dynamic.

       “Go,” it whispered. “You are free.” Viktor felt something hot at his feet where the roots once had bonded him, and he watched as they turned to embers, then cold ash, then blew away in the wind with the snow. He backed up slowly, unable to take his eyes away. The two beings locked onto each other. His attacker’s finger began to illuminate again, but his savior seemed unfazed. The dark creature pulled from its back a bow as black as its flesh and drew it. When he released the arrow, Viktor was almost blinded. How could it be that a creature of the shadows could use a weapon made of Light? He didn’t want to stay to find out, but he couldn’t tear himself away.

       His attacker stood still. Quiet. The world, it seemed, stood still. Quiet. The dark being did not move from his position with his bow drawn. He waited, patiently, for the attacker to glance at the hole that had been borne through its chest and scream and scream and scream and turn to ash and dirty the snow around the footprints it left behind.

       His protector lowered his bow. It, too, turned to ash.

       Viktor swallowed, regaining control of his body.

       “I…” he took a deep breath. “Thank you.” The dark creature turned to him.

       “Let us return to your friends, Snow Prince.” Viktor opened his mouth to speak, but it interrupted him, “The Forest is dangerous.”     

       As they walked back, the Night (as Viktor decided to refer to him, pun certainly intended) did not reveal any more of himself than he already had. He often whispered phrases an unfamiliar language, and the forest seemed to respond to him, branches and canopies of leaves parting as easily as if the Forest was a pool was water and the Night was gentle hand. The walk back seemed much longer than Viktor’s initial walk.

       “Viktor! Viktor!” They could hear Kingsmen in the distance. Viktor jumped.

       “Go to your friends, Snow Prince,” The Night commanded, stopping and looking up at Viktor. He couldn’t help but marvel at his face. The Night had no facial features other than two indentations where his eyes should have been, yet he was absolutely mesmerizing. Viktor had so many questions to ask, but he knew better than to push a creature whom Viktor did not know the full extent of his power.

       “I’m afraid, my friend, that I have upset them.” The Night looked down at the snow, then to Viktor. It almost seemed to smile.

       “The Snow Prince calls me his friend.” It reached out to Viktor. “I shall give him one gift before he leaves.” Then, without pause, the Night snaked its hands under Viktor’s cape and around his waist into a tight hug. It laid its head on his chest, and Viktor gazed deep into the stars that made up his hair. The Night’s fathomless glow permeated through Viktor’s chest and into his heart. He felt loved. He felt warm. And then he was alone again, just as if nothing had ever happened.

       “I found the King!” A snow leopard barreled towards him and almost knocked him over. With a puff of white energy, it morphed back to Yurio, who immediately clung to his arm. Viktor suddenly was, then, surrounded by his knights all deeply concerned.

       “My King-” they cried.

       “Viktor, please-”

       “Where were you?”

       “Are you hurt?” He reassured everyone and was escorted back to Hasetsu Road. Christophe was upset. Yurio was obviously upset _and_ angry. After calming the chaos that had become his guards, he found himself safely back inside his stuffy carriage. He hadn’t been gone for too long, but it took a lot of work to convince everyone that he had not been hurt, just a little lost.

       Drifting asleep, King Viktor Nikiforov, Ruler of the Northern Corner and Master of ice magic, found that, for the first time in his life, he was cold.

 

* * *

 

       “Alright, Makkachin. I’m going to go to bed now,” Yuuri stated. He had fallen asleep at his desk and Makkachin by his feet. Someone shuffling down the hall had woken them up. Makkachin stood up, jumped on the bed, and laid back down with a huff. Yuuri tried, and failed, to move her out of the way.

       “Come on.” Nothing. “Please?” She sighed, stood up, and allowed him to wiggle in. She had been sleeping in his bed for the past several nights she had been at the Inn. Otabek had assured Yuuri that she was clean and had no health problems except an affinity for steamed buns. _That won’t be a problem though_ , Otabek glared, _right, Makkachin?_ She had bowed her head and hid behind Yuuri. It had been four days since the Kingsman first arrived. He remained tight-lipped about when exactly the King was arriving and refused to let the Katsukis do anything big upon his arrival.

       "You’re such a sweet dog. I’ll be sad when you have to leave.” He laid his head down on the pillow and pulled up the covers. Makkachin nuzzled his leg and sighed. “Sweet dreams, little puppy.”

 

       Otabek had been meditating for several hours when he felt someone calling for him. _Beka_. It whispered and wrapped itself around his torso. It had shown him an image of the King in his carriage heading down Hasetsu Road. Otabek nodded his head, showing it that he understood. It vanished, and he opened his eyes. He found Hiroko and Toshiya in the kitchen cleaning up.

       “The King will be arriving tonight. Thank you for your efforts in preparing your Inn for his stay.” Otabek said. The two Katsukis jumped, startled by his voice, then laughed. Hiroko did a small dance of joy and pulled her husband to join her. They seemed happy now, but Otabek wasn’t blind to the stress he had put them under. The King’s safety was a priority, yes, but Otabek ached inside knowing that the Katsukis had spent days preparing and worrying and working without any indication of how long it would be until the King arrived and how long he would be staying.

       Toshiya smiled at Otabek. “Don’t thank us. We’re always happy to serve our King, in the past and now.” Otabek nodded and took his leave. He walked through the main entrance to stand outside, waiting. He revisited the image that Yura had presented to him. Otabek knew from his own journey to Hatsetu that the King couldn’t be more than a half-hour away, yet it had been almost an hour since he had meditated. Viktor was always a little late, but this felt excessive. Otabek hoped that everything is okay. If anything happened to the King and he wasn’t around to fight, he wouldn’t be able to stand the guilt. _It’s okay_ , he tried to reassure himself, _I have my own responsibilities. The King trusted me to evaluate where he will be staying, and I have done my task to the best of my abilities. That is all he can ask of me. That is all I can ask of myself._

       The sound of chatter in the distance caught his attention. It sounded like his fellow Kingsmen. Otabek stood straighter, and made sure he was clearly visible from the road. When the King’s carriage came into sight, Otabek was overjoyed. He waited patiently but restlessly until the carriage and the rest of the stallions halted before him. Yurio hopped off his horse and jogged to Otabek.

       “Beka, you would not believe what happened.” Otabek’s stomach dropped. Yurio, sensing this, quickly clarified, “Everything’s alright! Viktor just, disappeared for a little while. Then the whole forest seemed to be moving around us, and we heard noises. It was the weirdest fucking thing.”

       “I’m glad he’s alright. The Katsukis have been working hard to prepare for our stay. I’ve inspected everything, and he’s good to go inside.”

       “Great! Thanks, Bekka! I’ll go wake him up.” Yurio ran over to the carriage and opened the door. “Time to wake up, you old hag!” After a bit of shuffling (Otabek could tell their arrival had disoriented his King), Viktor stepped out of the carriage with… a blanket. All the Kingsmen gasped.

       “My King, are you cold?” Otabek asked. The King ignored his questions and walked straight to the door, leaving everyone to wonder what had happened to him in the Forest. Otabek followed him inside, leaving the other Kingsmen to sort out the logistics of where to place the carriage and horses. Otabek could tell King Viktor was exhausted. He obviously wanted to go inside. He probably really missed Makkachin, too.

       And it was true. King Viktor, with Christophe’s blanket loosely wrapped around his shoulders, really missed his dog. So, with as much energy as Viktor could muster, he threw open the door, closed his eyes, and held out his arms for his loving puppy. What he got, however, startled him more than a doggy body slam. There was an older couple, standing near the doorway. The woman waved. The blanket slid of Viktor’s shoulders with an ungraceful thump.

       “Oh, sorry,” he said, quietly, “I was expecting my dog. Do you know where she is? I haven’t seen her in such a long time, and I had a really long journey here.” They both looked apologetic.

       “I’m sorry about this, my King, but your dog has been following our son around all day. Unless she sleeps in his bed, she barks all night. We can go wake him up if you’d like…”

       “No! No, it’s okay." Viktor sighed. He wanted to cry. This has been one of the weirdest and most exhausting nights of his life. First, he’s trapped in the carriage, then he gets attacked, then a warm _thing_ hugs him, then he’s suddenly cold for the first time in the life, then he’s back in the carriage, and now his beloved dog is cheating on him with some peasant. He scolded himself for calling one of his hosts a peasant. That was definitely a JJ thing to do. Viktor would never be derogatory to any of his subjects. Ugh, he was so stupid!

       And exhausted. Otabek picked up the blanket and put it back around his King’s shoulders like a second cape.

       “Here, we’ll go ahead and show you to your room.” They escorted him upstairs to a large bedroom. A large bed took up most of the space, but there was also room for a dresser and two nightstands. A handwritten letter from the family sat patiently on a small desk situated in the corner. He thanked the couple and dismissed Otabek. Viktor closed the door and waited for their footsteps fade. He opened the door again, determined to find his dog. Viktor closed his eyes and summoned a small ice sprite.

       “Go,” he whispered, “but quietly, little friend. Find my dog.” And the little sprite danced down the hallway with Viktor on its tail. After several turns, it ducked under a closed door and disappeared with a poof of snow. He opened the door slowly and found a bedroom. Makkachin was asleep on an empty, unmade bed. It was obvious that someone was living here, but he didn’t see anyone in the room or on his way here. Strange, Viktor thought, waking towards her, I thought they said Makkachin was sleeping with their son…

       He was going to attempt to get her up and take her back to his room, but she refused to budge. This entire experience was awful. He sat on the bed dejectedly and began to cry. Lying down beside her, Viktor buried his face in the covers and allowed himself to become tangled in Christophe’s blanket. As he wept, a gentle, warm hand stroked his hair until he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor Unwanted


	3. A Visitor Unwanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a misunderstanding.

The sun woke Yuuri for the first time all week.  He must have forgotten to shut his curtains last night. Without opening his eyes in fear of the light, he began to stroke the heavy weight pinning his legs to the bed. Makkachin was very attention hungry in this morning, he supposed. However, Yuuri didn’t remember Makkachin’s fur feeling like it was right now. Her fur was soft, but certainly not… silky? Also, Yuuri thought it was odd that Makkachin was lightly snoring. _Maybe she snores all the time, and I’ve just never noticed because I’m asleep?_ Yuuri thought, slowly opening his eyes. _That’s funny. I’ve never heard a dog snore like that before and OH MY GOD THAT’S NOT A DOG THAT’S NOT A DOG._

He threw open his eyes, began reaching frantically around for his glasses and, in his confusion, woke the stranger up. Yuuri found his glasses under his pillow and shoved them on the bridge of his nose. The stranger sat up and Yuuri took a good, clear look at him. He had short, silver hair and half-lidded, piercing blue eyes. His button down had been completely unbuttoned revealing his toned chest, and when the stranger turned his head to look at Yuuri, one sleeve slid intimately down his shoulder. He was shockingly gorgeous. Yuuri put one hand over his own mouth to keep from screaming that a stranger was in his bed and the other hand on the bed to brace himself because this stranger is the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, but he touched something cold and metallic. He looked down and from his sheets peeked a golden crown. He made eye contact with the man and screamed.

Yuuri Katsuki ran. He ran past his mother and past Otabek and past some blond kid and past royal horses and a royal carriage and sprinted straight to his meadow and screamed.

Why.

_Why._

He beat his head against the oak, turned away to the meadow, then slid to the sod. Or, the snow, rather. Because it’s snowing.

“Great! Now it’s snowing, and I don’t have a coat on! Wonderful!” Yuuri sighed. This was the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. He exercised some deep breathing before walking himself through the situation again. He fell asleep with Makkachin last night, and woke up beside the monarch of his kingdom. Did he bed this man? He didn’t drink last night and certainly didn’t feel hungover. Did King Viktor just… wander into his room? Was this some kind of horrible prank? Don’t people get beheaded over things like this? Or, in his case, bebedded?

 

* * *

 

Viktor had dreamed about the creature. They were facing each other just meters apart. They were in a forest, but it seemed to be completely spilt down the middle between them. On Viktor’s side, fresh snow dusted every crevice of every tree and between each blade of grass. On the Night’s side, the trees were all crumbling. From Viktor’s sky fell fresh powder. From the Night’s, ash.

Viktor reached out to touch him, but he began to back away.

“No, please,” Viktor pleaded, “Tell me what you are.”

The being looked up at him, and the stars that peppered his skin were picked up with the breeze. It looked like he was disintegrating as they left his flesh. “The Snow Prince doesn’t need to know.”

“Please. I’m begging you.” Viktor was becoming more and more desperate. The Night, defeated, held out his hand, and Viktor eagerly reached out for him. As soon as they touched, however, he knew something was wrong. The Night reached around him again and settled his head on Viktor’s chest, but it wasn’t right.

Instead of warmth, it burned.

The Night, sensing Viktor’s pain, let go of his hand and Viktor jerked away. The Night smiled, “The Snow Prince has made a horrible mistake.” Viktor fell to his knees. The pain was unbearable. Blood and water dripped from his arms and his chest unto the snow. The trees behind him began to fall, and the ground began to shake. “The Snow Prince is a thief. We could not find him until now. Until now.” His white snow turned to dirty ash. He looked from his burns back to the creature, his eyes begging for something.

Mercy.

“See? If I touch him…”

The world turned black and started to crumble like the Night’s trees. Viktor could no longer feel his legs and cried helplessly as the earth beneath his knees gave out. Falling into an even darker abyss, he could hear the Night’s voice echoing around him. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once and it sounded just as pained as it did dark.

“… he melts!”

Viktor woke up, startled, when he felt someone pet his head. No one had been close enough to touch his head since he was little, and the intimacy of it scared him, along with the shock of waking up from that dream. Suddenly, the hand pulled back and started thrashing around. It was too human to be Makka. Maybe he had fallen asleep in Christophe’s bed by accident?

He sat up ready to greet his dear friend but was surprised to see a complete stranger. Things weren’t making sense. Was this the Katsuki son? When they made eye contact, he could easily tell that the stranger was deeply uncomfortable and looked like his soul was being ripped from his body. Viktor followed his bedmate’s eyes down to his crown laying on the bed. He supposed it had fallen off his head when he was asleep. Usually not a big deal, but the stranger came unglued and began screaming. Then he just ran out. Completely left. No “good morning” or “how did you sleep?” He just… fled. The whole ordeal was very intense for so early in the morning.

Makkachin hopped off the bed and began to trot towards the door as if to follow the man.

“Oh, no, Miss. Don’t you dare.” Makkachin looked back at Viktor apologetically, then sprinted. She was having trouble finding friction on the stained wood floor, so Viktor took the opportunity to leap off the bed and attempt to catch her. She was too fast, however, and disappeared completely by the time he collected himself. What a morning!

He looked out the window, trying to gage the time. The sun had barely risen, but he knew he had a lot to do. The events of the previous night lapped at his mind, and he knew that he’d have to inform Christophe and his guard about the creature that attacked him. Also, he just wanted to spend some time with Makka and relax in the hotspring. That was his first priority.

_Alright_ , he thought, _I have several options._ He began to pace. _I can wait until the boy and Makka return… but that’s unlikely. I can go after them myself, but I don’t quite know my way around. And my knights would want to come. Oh! I could send my knights after them… but that does sound a little overkill._ Turning to the bed, he pat the bedding to find his crown. Sigh. How did he even end up in a stranger’s bed in the first place?

_Ah! That’s it!_ He jumped up and put on his crown triumphantly. With a snap of his fingers, another ice sprite appeared with a little poof of snow. The power to summon sprites was certainly a unique one. Viktor remembers vividly the day his parents found out his imaginary friends weren’t so imaginary. It floated to his face and began to poke at his cheek.

“My little friend, I’ve summoned you to find my dog.” It giggled and began to lightly pull on the strands of hair that fell over his eyes.

"The master looks for his dog much in the past time. It’s hot here~” Viktor chuckled and brought his hand up for the sprite to sit.

“Yes, well, your master wouldn’t have to keep summoning you in such warm places if his dog didn’t keep running off.” The sprite began exploring the creases of his hand leaving a little trail of ice crystals in his palm behind its stubby, curious legs. His instructors had been surprised that his sprites remained so curious and childlike throughout his teenage years. Usually, if a magic user could summon servants, they would age with her. Viktor’s, however, never changed from their original appearance. Two short legs, four cute arms, and two little feelers on top of the head made up his sprites. “Okay, little friend. I’m right behind you. First, though, we have to sneak out!” The sprite floated up and nodded vigorously.

“The master is quiet not. I wonder if he is silent in the future.”

“Of course I can keep quiet!”

“The master is too tall to quiet.”

“Many people believe that tall people are dashing! What would you know about that, little bug?”

“So what if the master thinks he handsome, we shall see if he keeps up!” It twirled and flew out the door.

 

* * *

 

“Makkachin, you belong to the King, don’t you? I should have known when Otabek told me that you weren’t his.” Yuuri continued sulking, head in between his knees. He had no idea Makkachin was following him when he ran out the house until he arrived at the meadow. Her light steps the snow gave her away.

“This is probably treason.” Makkachin licked his ear. “I’m going to get punished or something. I had no idea you were the King’s dog!” Makkachin boofed and sat down in the snow.

Oh, yeah. The snow. It had been chilly the past couple of days, but not chilly enough for it to snow in the middle of spring. Yuuri hoped that it wouldn’t affect the bird family living in the oak. Makkachin began rolling around and tossing snow on Yuuri with her nose.

Suddenly, everything made sense. King Viktor was the Snow King. He reigned over the Northern Kingdom, which included the small town of Hatsetu located towards the southern border. The Snow King was a powerful ice magic user. The cold front that had blown through Hasetsu was foreshadowing his arrival! And Makkachin is most definitely his dog because she is very accustomed to the snow! Yuuri was proud of himself for putting all that together, but the events of the morning soured his mood once again.

Finally calming down, he unfolded himself and took some time to observe his meadow. The snow made it more gorgeous, if that was even possible. It was just the right temperature, too: not cold enough to bite, but it wasn’t warm enough for the snow to melt. The snow felt nice under his palm.

Looking out, Yuuri felt an acute wave of gratitude for this place. He was lucky to have a somewhere he could be alone, where he could escape from the embarrassment that was this morning. What would his parents think if they found out? What would Otabek and the Kingsmen do to him? Was accidentally sleeping in the bed with the King a punishable offense?

“I’m sure about one thing, Makkachin,” he said while scratching her head, “the sooner the King leaves the better. And… if it’s not for my sake, then for my parents.” Makkachin rolled over allowing Yuuri to rub her tummy. “This entire ordeal has completely fried them! They’re getting older, so this amount of stress can’t be good for their health. I… I really disagree with the way the Kingsmen handled the King’s arrival. Mom and dad were only allowed to know small details!” Makkachin wiggled closer to Yuuri, but turned her head to the left to look at the distant trees. “Otabek didn’t even tell them when the King was arriving until he was an hour away! It’s unfair to them, and –“ Makkachin covered Yuuri in snow when she jumped up and began running.

“I’m sorry to hear that I’ve been a burden.” The voice was deep and came from a figure standing at the edge of the meadow yet seemed like a whisper directly into Yuuri’s ear. It somehow seemed to bury itself deep within his chest. Yuuri shuddered. The figure’s cape danced in the wind, and a small gust lifted silver hair out of his eyes. His crown, though, prevented it from blowing too far out of place. The meadow seemed to proudly present to Yuuri the King, Viktor Nikiforov. Makkachin, finally reaching her friend, jumped on him. As soon as her paws hit his chest, though, she was gone. Dissolved gently into the wind.

Yuuri was stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, but an absence of words left him simply gaping. Everything that had occurred in the last several seconds left him breathless and confused. He squinted. Standing at the edge of the meadow, Viktor Nikiforov was everything that was beauty, elegance, and grace.

For a brief moment, the world was silent. For a moment, it seemed like the only people who were living and breathing was Yuuri and his King. Yuuri, under the tree, was on his knees. A chilly breeze kissed the back of his neck and down his spine. The breath that became mist in the frozen air mingled with the snow and disappeared into the landscape, its purpose only to remind Yuuri how difficult it had become to breathe. Viktor, on the other hand, stood confidently with both strength and ease. A demigod.

Viktor snapped and, as soon as he had appeared, disappeared into snow. In his place, a small puff of snow lingered. Yuuri began to look around for him, reasonably anxious, but when he turned his head to the right to survey the meadow, he turned inches away from Viktor’s face. The King was sitting with his legs folded to the side, and, in one swift motion, held Yuuri’s chin. With his other hand, he lightly traced Yuuri’s arm down to his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yuuri.” He drew out Yuuri’s name and leaned in closer. Yuuri, freaking out, jumped and slammed his back against the oak tree. He woke up.

Just a dream.

A weird fucking dream.

 

* * *

 

For the hundredth time, he wished that Yakov would have let him ride Gabriel to Hasetsu instead of being locked in the carriage. He admired the beautiful sight that was snowy Hasetsu Road and was sad he wasn’t given the chance to experience this earlier. The sprite danced on the surface of the snow and left a little trail of fractals behind him. Every once in a while, it would dive into the powder and jump back up with a twirl, almost like an aquatic creature.

Walking along, Viktor had time to reflect on the events that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. He dove deep into his memories from his schooling, looking for answers.

_"I know you can summon a weapon. You’re the only one holding yourself back.”_

_I’m trying!” Yakov grabbed him by the arm. It wasn’t meant to hurt him, Yakov never raised a hand against Viktor, just get his attention._

_There isn’t any ‘try.’ This is a Light spell. It comes from your Light. You have a beautiful Light.” Yakov poked Viktor’s chest above his heart. “Let go of trying to be perfect and just do it.” Yakov let go and directed Viktor back to his target._

_"Again.”_

Viktor hadn’t been able to sense Light in his Night. How, then, could it use Light magic? Why did it have body heat? He thought back to the battle in the woods, to his attacker raising a pointed finger. It was a creature of the dark, that’s why the Night’s light arrow did it harm. _How, then, was it also able to use Light magic?_ This entire ordeal made him deeply uncomfortable. The laws of magic weren’t something that could be broken. If you didn’t have Light, you couldn’t use Light magic. Simple. He took a deep breath.

_Light magic is not an attack,” Yakov had scolded, “It’s a purifying technique. Stop trying to shoot Light beams out of your hands like the cop-out ice magic I’ve been letting you get away with.” Viktor had raised his hand to try again, but Yakov’s glare scared him into lowering it. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s try meditation.”_

It’s funny to think that, after all these years, Light magic was the only magic he really struggled with. He had even learned the basics of fire magic easier that Light magic, and fire magic burned his hands! Whenever other princes his age visited the Northern Corner, they always insisted on sparring. Their laughs at his pathetic attempt to summon a Light spear were interrupted when, instead, he summoned a blizzard. Yakov had reprimanded him. _You can’t take your insecurities out on others, Vitya. Everyone has strengths in different ways, and the fact that you don’t know yours shows just how much you need to grow._ Those words still stung. This was the worst thing Yakov had ever told him, and Viktor would never forgive him for it.

Viktor Nikiforov wasn’t weak. He had never been weak. While all of those little princes wasted their time playing out in the garden or playing pretend, he studied magic. He sparred until he could no longer stand. He learned the basics of every type of common magic even when it almost destroyed him. And, when the War came, and all the other princes were sitting helplessly at home while their land, their _people_ , were being killed and destroyed and threatened, he fought. When the death of his parents accelerated his coronation by _decades_ , he bore the weight of the crown. How dare anyone accuse him of being weak?

“Is the Snow Prince lost?” Viktor looked unsuccessfully for the voice, wrenched from his thoughts. His sprite fled to Viktor’s shoulder in fear and nudged him in the direction of a nearby tree. There, in the braches, sat the Night.

“No, I’m alright.” The Night hopped down, landing on the ground without a sound. As he walked, Viktor noticed that his footsteps were silent as well. His instincts told him to back away as it approached, but he stood his ground. A King never backs down.

“Snow Prince, will you tell me something?” Viktor nodded, unable to find words to speak. In the dark, his Night was mysterious. In the light, his Night was dazzling, absolutely stunning. Its flesh was peppered with even more stars and they twinkled like glitter. Viktor could see for the first time that it had jet-black hair that fell gently over its face.

“Snow Prince, do you feel pain when I touch you?” The Night stepped closer, looking down at Viktor’s shoes. He was unsure where this was going, but didn’t feel any immediate sense of danger, so he allowed it. He noticed that he Night was much shorter than him. Viktor peered down his head and realized its body was almost translucent. Like water, if you looked closely, it distorted what was on the other side. How strange. Everything about the Night was strange, and it made Viktor feel strange.

“Not at all.”

It made Viktor feel threatened.

"That’s too bad,” then, without hesitation, it flashed a Light dagger and stabbed him.

"Fuck! You… you just stabbed me!” Then, it disappeared.

It wasn’t the first time Viktor had been stabbed. He _was_ a King, so, naturally, there had been several attempts on his life, especially during the War. This, though, this time was the worst. Not because it hurt. It didn’t hurt. It never hurt. He was just… surprised. He should have known. Damn the Forest.

“Shit!” he grumbled. He hung his head and began to unbutton his shirt. The sprite on his shoulder startled him when it began to run in circles, dipping under his collar and inspecting the cut. It wasn’t deep. The state of his blouse made it seem much worse than it actually was. One thing was for sure, the Night was his enemy. Despite saving him. Viktor needed to tell Christophe and the Kingsmen about everything as soon as possible. Yakov was right: Hasetsu is darker than meets the eye. It didn’t deserve a second chance. He should have known.

“Eeeee! The master is hurt! No issue! No issue! I can help!” His torso felt cold. Damn the cold. He had never been cold before. Why now? Why the hell now?!

_"The trick to healing magic is to not do it yourself.”_

_"Yakov~ That makes no sense!” He sighed._

_“Remember visiting the wounded soldiers?” He remembered. “They did not stitch their own injuries, did they?”_

_“No, Yakov.”_

_“They did not talk themselves through their memories, did they?”_

_“No, Yakov.”_

_“Using healing magic on yourself is painful. Difficult. This you perform on someone else. Understand?” Viktor nodded his head. “No, you don’t. What are you thinking about?”_

_“Well, why couldn’t one of my friends do it?” Yakov opened his mouth, then closed it again. It wasn’t often he was silent. Did Viktor say something wrong? Did Yakov not know what he meant? “You know, my little friends! They’re made of ice…”_

_"You amaze me, Vitya. Let’s continue. Summon a little friend.”_

“Let us continue, master! We must find dog!”

“Oh.” Oh, yeah. Makkachin. How could he have forgotten? “Yeah, let’s continue, but we have to hurry. I don’t want to encounter the Night again.”

“Close, my master.”

“That’s good to hear.” They continued for about half of a kilometer before the sprite made a hard right. Viktor followed, quickening the pace. Makkachin was near, Viktor could feel it. Finally, he saw a clearing in the distance. Emerging from the trees out of breath, his blood froze. There was his Night, petting Makkachin. Oh, nevermind, that’s just the Katsuki’s son.

“Makkachin!” Viktor yelled, running towards the tree where the dog sat. He had hoped that she would come running towards him like the kind and loyal dog she was, but she stayed put in the Katsuki’s lap. “Makka?” He slowed down as he approached. “Makkaaachiiiin!” He cried, dumping himself into the snow. His dog stayed put. How dare she?

“Oh, my god. I am so sorry.” The kid said, rapidly and unsuccessfully trying to push Makka in Viktor’s direction. Viktor narrowed his eyes. Who was this kid, getting all friendly with his dog? He wondered what exactly was going through the Katsuki son’s head.

_Oh my god oh shit fuck oh god I wish I was dead I want to crawl under a rock and die oh fuck shit shit shit shit shit shit oh my god_ , was going through Yuuri’s mind as the dog refused to budge. He thought that he might actually pass out from the embarrassment.

“I see my dog has taken a liking to you.” Viktor pulled himself up from the ground and stated coldly. He absentmindedly brushed his fingers over his cut. Threatened.

“Yeah, uh, she was really having trouble sleeping, and Otabek said that she really missed her owner and I had no idea that was you so I tried to comfort her and now I guess she really likes me oh my god I am so sorry.” Yuuri stood, took a knee, and bowed his head to the King almost expecting (and slightly hoping) that he’d draw some kind of ice sword and lop it right off.

“Oh.” That actually made some sense. “You can stand up. It’s alright.” But the kid stayed down.

“And I apologize on behalf of my family if your room is not to your liking. If you prefer mine, I ask that you take it.” Yuuri nearly shouted. This caught Viktor a little… off guard. He had sworn that the room was empty when he walked in last night.

“You’re the one that got into bed with me.” This time, Yuuri stood up, a little pissed. Yeah, okay, Viktor is his King and totally has the power to kill him, but Katsuki Yuuri is the only one allowed to belittle Katsuki Yuuri. And his mom. And Phichit.

“I’m sorry, your Highness, but I was asleep in my bed far before you arrived at the Inn.” The air around them hardened.

“I’m having a hard time believing that,” Viktor spat. The whole reason he was passing through Hasetsu was because his subjects had given him so much unwanted attention. Yes, he was the King, and he was grateful that his people respected him, but now it was all too much. When he was younger, he could go on tours. He could visit towns and travel without a worry, but now he’s confined to his carriage with a minimum of fifteen guards anywhere he goes. Now, he has to increase palace security. Now, he has to worry about random men getting into his bed at night.

In reality, this wasn’t necessarily true, but, as anyone could guess, Viktor was not thinking clearly. After all, he had a long night and, also, just was stabbed. Viktor was actually passing through Hasetsu because it had a nice, convenient road that went straight fucking to JJ’s palace in the Southern Corner. But Viktor had just been stabbed and was not thinking about Hasetsu Road. He was thinking about summoning an ice sword and lobbing this kid’s head off.

“You can ask my family. I may be a nobody from a small town,” he said, getting a little in Viktor’s face, which was probably a horrible idea, “but I swear to you that I’m no liar like the greasy nobles you hang around with.” Oh, alright, he wanted to go there?

“The idea that a subject like you has the audacity to speak to your King like that makes me sick.” This got Yuuri’s blood boiling. For the longest time, he’s tried to think positive things about the royal family. They were, after all, more benevolent than other monarchs in surrounding kingdoms, but he knows now the idea that they anything above average was absolute bullshit, and this was Yuuri’s time to come to terms with it. Fuck Viktor. Fuck royalty. He’s tried for so long to image that Viktor is a decent king. Nowhere near the benevolence of his parents, but maybe, Yuuri thought, the reason he makes sketchy decisions is because he really believes that it would benefit the kingdom. But now, looking into his face and hearing this from him, Yuuri realizes that Viktor is just a spoiled child who grew into a shitty adult. He obviously has no idea what’s going on with his people, and he obviously doesn’t care. Yuuri is sick imagining his parents working for three days straight to prepare for the King’s visit, repairing old bedding by hand, spending money on groceries for an army, preparing food for everyone, cleaning every single part of their Inn, their _home_ , to fit the King’s standards without complaining and possibly without compensation. Yuuri is grounded by the realization that Viktor isn’t the King he _tried_ _so hard_ to imagine. He’s an ass.

“The idea that a king like you with such potential would waste any of it makes me sick. I respected your parents, but you are a stain on their legacy. I understand now that you’re just a rich kid who doesn’t give a shit about his people.” Yuuri brushed past him, marching back towards the edge of the clearing. Viktor clenched his fists.

“What’s your name?” Yuuri stopped. “What’s your name?!” Yuuri remained silent. “Answer me when I speak!” Viktor wasn’t sure what he could do with that information. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he hadn’t been told that before. This was more of a power thing than anything else. When he got back to the Inn, the kid would be punished.

Yuuri turned his head to look Viktor in the eye. Viktor felt a wave of adrenaline triggered by true fear, just like in the forest when he was attacked. This time, however, there was no one standing between them. Just the glance of this kid was enough to make Viktor tremble. His hair had fallen over his face, replacing his eyes with two black holes. His mouth hung open and slowly transitioned from a snarl to smirk. Stars began to pepper his skin like freckles. Under his deadly gaze, Viktor felt like his feet were sinking into the ground. He backed away until his head hit the thick bark of the tree behind him. Its branches seemed to slowly surround him. Viktor was trapped. Ensnared. He felt the magic, the power, the light from his body drain. Just like before.

“Katsuki Yuuri. Nice to meet you, Snow Prince.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor to Another Home


	4. A Visitor to Another Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri!!! on the Run

     As he turned and walked out of the meadow, Yuuri felt sudden panic. What had just come over him? He had never said or done anything like that before. Anxiety absorbed him on his walk home. What was going to happen to him? His hands began to shake. When he made it back to the Inn, he went straight for his room. As soon as he shut the door behind him, however, he was reminded of the morning’s events and decided to hide in Mari’s room instead.

     “Mari, I’m not doing well.” Yuuri was surprised to see her sitting in her bed reading. He could tell she was going to ask him where he had been but stopped when she saw his face.

     “Come here.” She pat the bed beside her, and he took the liberty of wrapping himself in her covers. Although they had never been too close, Mari was always there for him when he needed her to be. On the nights that Mari had a date in town or wanted to hang out with Minako, Yuuri covered for her. When he was with Phichit or spending some time in his meadow (which, by the way, was completely ruined for him), she would cover for him.

     “What happened?”

     “I had a horrible interaction with the King.” He hoped she would catch on to what he was actually trying to say.

     “Oh, Yuuri…” She knew.

     “I’m scared.”

     “Oh, shit. Yuuri...” He nodded his head.

     “I don’t know what I should do.” A pause.

     “Why don’t you spend some time at Phichit’s house? That way you can lay low for a bit. I’ll cover for you, and his parents could probably help. Aren’t they ex-military or something?” He nodded, sniffing.

     “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you so much.” She pat his head and opened her arms for a hug.

     “Of course, Yuuri.” They embraced and started to make plans. She would go downstairs and make sure that neither the King nor the Kingsmen were around, then give him the signal to go. He would run into town and stay at Phichit’s until things blew over and she came to get him.

     The plan ran flawlessly. Thank you so much, Mari. I owe you a ton of chores!

     Phichit’s house wasn’t too far of a jog away. He had shown up at their door unannounced more than several times before, but he still apologized profusely to Phichit’s father upon his arrival.

     “My wife is at the store, but Phichit is in his room,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay in our guest room or in his room. Whatever you two work out.” Yuuri was grateful, as always, for the Chulanont's hospitality. Phichit’s father had sensed that his wasn’t one of Yuuri’s regular visits. He could tell something was seriously wrong. This was the least he could do, after everything Yuuri has done for his son.

 

* * *

 

 

     Viktor sat against the tree, paralyzed. His knees had given out a while ago, so he just sat, mind completely blank. He would have time to be angry later. For now, he had to deal with how weak his body had become. What had Yuuri done to him? What the fuck was going on in Hasetsu? Makkachin had long given up on trying to get attention from him, and, instead, watched over him from his side. He wondered why she would be drawn to such a dark and corrupted creature. Surely Yuuri had lost his Light. That was the only explanation Viktor could think of. Whatever was going on here, Viktor had to make some important decisions.

     Taking a deep breath, he used the tree to help himself stand up. He hobbled towards the forest, having to stop to catch his breath. The walk back to the Inn was going to be long, but he had plenty to think about to keep him company.

     Firstly, was it safe enough to stay in Hasetsu another night? He would most likely have to confront the Kingsmen about this, although he was hesitant to tell them exactly everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. He didn’t want to go back to the palace necessarily, but he wasn’t sure if a meaningless diplomatic trip to JJs was important enough to risk his life.

     Secondly, what could he do about Katsuki Yuuri, his attacker? Did he travel back with him to the Capital? Or did he send him off with a Kingsmen? If Yuuri was Light-less, then he was extremely dangerous. And Viktor had seen for himself that he possibly had the ability to briefly dilute a magic-user’s Light, rendering their magic useless. A Kingsmen couldn’t handle that, no matter how powerful. But… could he?

     Too many thoughts, too many possibilities. For now, Viktor had arrived at the Inn and needed to have an important discussion with the Kingsmen.

 

* * *

 

 

     “And then I said, ‘Katsuki Yuuri. Nice to meet you, Snow Prince.’ I have no idea what came over me. I didn’t feel… human.”

     “Yuuri, I know this is a really rough situation but that sounds totally badass.” Yuuri smiled. He guessed it did.

     “I just… I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never felt so out of control of my body.” Phichit made a humming sound and nodded.

     “Do you think it’s something magic?” Phichit asked, “You spend a lot of time out in the woods. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, considering all the weird stuff that happens out there. I mean, you and I both have heard all the scary Hatetsu Forest fairy tales.” Yuuri paused to consider this.

     “No, I don’t think I’m possessed, if that’s what you’re saying. No one’s said I’ve been acting weird lately.” Phichit nodded again. They had been sitting on his bed for a while now. He had asked Yuuri not to spare any details, starting from when Otabek first arrived at the inn. Late morning had easily turned into afternoon.

     “I don’t know what to tell you, Yuuri,” he confessed, “except that I support you one hundred percent. You can stay here as long as you like.” Yuuri opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted, “and no, you’re not a burden or anything. I mean, you have a drawer of your stuff here.” Phichit poked his arm and laughed. Yuuri was thankful he had a friend like Phichit. They had known each other since they were very young. Their friendship had initially surprised the town seeing as how they appear to be polar opposites. Yuuri, an introverted, sensitive child best friends with the loudest, most outgoing kid in town? It had been hard to believe that their friendship would last them as long as it did. Even now, as young adults, they remained inseparable, and Yuuri couldn’t be happier about it.

     “Thank you. This means so much to me.” He gave Phichit a quick squeeze around the waist.

     “So……” Oh, no. “Was the King as hot as people say he is?” Yuuri cringed.

     “Oh, my god! I tell you he wants to behead me and you ask that?” Phichit dramatically put one hand over his heart and the other over his forehead.

     “I would never, Katsuki Yuuri!” A pause. He lowered his voice, “but was he?”

     “Okay, yeah, he was pretty hot,” Yuuri confessed.

     “Ooo, do tell.”

     “Do you remember when he passed through here before he was crowned?”    

     “Who wouldn’t?”

     “Well, he cut his hair. It’s about this short and covers his eye like this.” Yuuri showed with his hands. “And he’s got really blue eyes. Like… that color.” Yuuri pointed to a book cover sitting on Phichit’s desk. “And he’s actually pretty tall.”

     “Woah. No wonder he’s an asshole. I would be if I looked that good.”

     “Phichit, you already look that good. And you’re an asshole.” They both laughed. Thank god for Phichit. He could make Yuuri feel better no matter what, and he really needed a laugh right now.

     “Hey, Phichit, one more thing.”

     “Yeah?”

     “I still feel bad about staying here for so long. Can I help out at the store while I’m here?”

     “Yeah, that sounds like it would be a lot of fun. We would have to get work done, though. But, wait, aren’t you afraid that the King might stop by?”

     “Viktor’s never done anything for himself in his entire life. I assure you, he doesn’t know how to run errands. And I don’t know if any of the Kingsmen would recognize me, other than Otabek.”

     “If you say so, Yuuri.” But Yuuri could tell that Phichit didn’t agree with that idea. It was too risky, after all. Maybe he could convince him to stay at the house until the King physically left Hasetsu. Until then, he could only hope King Viktor’s visit wouldn’t last long.

 

* * *

 

 

     Viktor stood at the bedroom door and knocked. “Otabek and I needed to talk to you.” It hadn’t been difficult finding Otabek seeing as how he meditates twice a day for several hours. What he’s doing, Viktor has no clue, but it’s not his place to judge.

     Christophe opened the door and welcomed the two in. His room was much smaller than Viktor’s, but just as nice. Handmade bedding, a small desk, pieces from local artists hanging on the wall. It was such a shame that a beautiful inn like this was corrupted by Yuuri’s presence. Viktor had asked his family about his whereabouts upon his return, but nobody had seen him. Strange.

     “What’s wrong, my King?”

     “It’s about the youngest Katsuki son.” Viktor lowered his voice, and allowed everyone to get settled. He took the desk chair, Otabek sat on the floor, and Christophe on the bed. “Do you remember when I disappeared in the woods yesterday night?” Christophe nodded, not knowing what to expect or how the two linked together. “I was attacked.”

     “Viktor! Why did you tell me?!” Both Christophe and Otabek jumped.

     “No, no! Just, let me talk. Sit back down,” they obeyed. “I was saved by some… weird, dark creature who could use Light magic, even though I suspect it was Light-less. The entire thing was very weird, and I’m a little shaken up.”

     “Anyone would be, my King.”

     “That aside, I accidentally fell asleep in the youngest Katsuki’s bed when I saw Makka there. I was really out of sorts and wasn’t thinking, and Yuui wasn’t there, so I fell asleep. In the morning, he was in the bed with me.” Viktor could tell Christophe was about to freak out again, so he tried to hurry the story along, “He screamed when he woke and ran out, and Makka followed. Then later, when I was out on Hasetsu Road looking for Makka, the Night appeared and stabbed me,” Otabek looked like he had been stabbed, “I found him in this odd, secluded meadow with Makka. When I confronted him about the morning, he began to get very aggressive. Irrationally aggressive. When I pointed this out and asked for his name, something awful happened.” He paused. “I have reason to think he’s the one who saved me, then stabbed me again. My attacker.” There was another pause. “Otabek, what do you know about Yuuri?”

     “He likes to sew and read. He’s completely introverted and awkward. I believe he has trouble socializing and keeps mostly to himself… that’s why I’m so surprised by this news.” Viktor nodded. That Yuuri, the quiet Yuuri, must be a façade.

     “Chris, what do you think?”

     He hummed. “I trust you, Viktor, if you really have strong evidence, and if you’re sure that he was the one who stabbed you.” Viktor nodded. “Alright, then. What do you want to do?”

     Now it was Viktor’s turn to think. He didn’t want to… kill Yuuri, but putting him away and interrogating him might give them an idea of what was going on in Hasetsu. It also might be safer for the town’s residents. But he’s too dangerous to transport alone…

     “I believe several of the Kingsmen could take Yuuri back to the castle and put him in the prison. When we get back from JJs, we can have a good look at him. Otabek, you tell the Katsuki’s since you know them best. Christophe, you make a party of Kingsmen to begin searching for him. As of now, Katsuki Yuuri is a wanted, Light-less criminal charged with attempting to murder the King.”

 

* * *

 

 

     When Otabek broke the news to the Katsukis, they were heartbroken. More than Otabek was prepared to handle. Hiroko was absolutely hysterical. She clung onto Toshiya who begged Otabek to have mercy on his son. Her son, she wailed, who has never harmed a fly. It couldn’t be true. Her cries haunted Otabek, and he found it incredibly difficult to meditate that evening. When he finally fell asleep, his dreams were plagued by their grief. The one thing that bothered Otabek the most, though, was Mari’s expression. There was something dangerous about her indifference, and it frightened him deeply.

     Christophe, on the other hand, had no issue carrying out his orders. He chose several of the top Kingsmen to track Yuuri. Yurio was the leader of the party with five men under him. His ability to turn into large cats would not only help with tracking, but also catching Yuuri, should he run. They were given the order to harm if necessary, but not, under any circumstance, to kill. They were to start immediately.

     Yurio quickly found tracks in the back of the inn that ran to a nearby house. When they knocked on the door, an older man answered.

     “Hello. How can I help you?”

     “We’re looking for Katsuki Yuuri. If you know where he is, it’s in your best interest to tell us.” Yurio threatened, making sure the crest on his armor was clearly visible. He snarled. The man quickly spilled.

     What Yurio didn’t know, however, was that both of the Chulanonts were seasoned soldiers who fought for the North most of their lives. This wasn’t their first time hiding a fugitive.

     Half of the band stayed to search the house. The other was led by Yurio into town. When they arrived at the center of town, no one was in sight. News travels fast here, it seemed. Shutters were closed. Doors were locked and secured. Pets muzzled and children hidden away. It looked like a ghost town. The lack of people made it easy to locate the old man’s general store. Yurio kicked the door open and was greeted by a woman sitting at her desk and a man he assumed to be her son organizing a basket of apples.

     “Alright, it seems you both know who I’m looking for.” Yurio hissed.

     “Good afternoon, sir. I’m happy to see that you’ve chosen our humble store for your grocery needs.” The woman smiled.

     “Enough with the bullshit,” Yurio hopped on the desk and signaled for the rest of the Kingsmen to file in. “Tell me where he’s hiding.”

     “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Phichit, dear, is this one of our friends?” The boy looked up, at his mother and gave an apologetic smile.

     “I’m sorry, Mama, but I don’t recognize these guests.” He turned back to the apples.

     “I’m tired of this act! Is he hiding in one of those barrels?” A Kingsman knocked over the barrels one by one, but all were only filled with fruit and other goods. “What about under that table behind the flour?” A Kingsman searched behind the flour with no luck. “Alright.” Yurio said, hopping down to behind the desk where the woman sat. “Is the little piggy under here?” But, alas, under the desk was empty. The store wasn’t that big, and Yurio had run out of places a person could plausibly fit. He huffed, vaulting back over the desk. “Come out, Yuuri!”

     “Oh, you’re looking for Yuuri?” The boy said, smiling. That stupid smile annoyed Yurio.

     “Wipe that smile off your face and tell me where he is! I know that you know,” Yurio spat, getting closer to his face.

     “Oh,” Phichit chuckled, “haven’t you heard? Yuuri left for his weekly fishing trip down by Hasetsu Beach. It’s just a few miles down the road. If you think the trip will make you hungry, you could buy some delicious apples. They’re especially refreshing when you eat them in the ocean breeze~” Yurio massaged his temples. These people were driving him insane. He had to get out of here quickly if he was going to find Yuuri before dark. He tisked, then walked out, the Kingsmen following. When one slammed the door, Phichit peaked out the window and saw them heading down Hasetsu Road towards the beach.

     Yurio made a critical mistake when first approaching the Chulanont’s house: knocking. If he had just kicked the door down, he would have found Phichit’s father meditating on the floor by the window. Phichit’s father had a similar ability as Yurio, actually, and it lied in his connection with his wife. Upon meditation, they could send messages, energies, to one another, just like Yurio and Otabek. He had seen the Kingsmen approaching from the woods, and, since Yuuri had informed him of his situation, was able to contact his wife at the store fairly quickly. Yurio’s knocking gave him a little more time to elaborate exactly what was going on. By searching their house, of course, the Kingsmen found nothing because Yuuri was at the store helping take inventory when Phichit’s mother received the distressing news. She comforted Yuuri and led him to sit behind her desk. When Yurio kicked the door down, she had already analyzed his Light and was able to use that against him, cloaking Yuuri. “Just make sure to stay still, okay?” She asked, calming his nerves. He nodded and didn’t move the entire time the Kingsmen were in the building. In fact, when Yurio looked under the desk, he was centimeters away from Yuuri’s face. The lesson Yuuri learned from this? Never, ever, ever fuck with the Chulanont’s.

     By the time they arrived at Hasetsu beach, Yurio and his party would realize they had been played. The sun would have set, and they would be forced to head back to the inn. It had been several hours after Viktor first ordered Yuuri’s capture, and, inside the inn, possibly the worst hours of everyone’s life.

     No one slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor Found


	5. A Visitor Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri returns home.

     “Phichit, what am I doing to do?” Yuuri was panicking. They were sitting in Phichit’s room on his bed trying to make a game plan. He knew he couldn’t stay with the Chulanonts forever. He didn’t want to put them in danger, and with each hour he remained inside their house, his chances of being caught increased. After going to the beach and finding nothing, Yuuri rightly suspected that Kingsmen knew that the Chulanonts knew more than they were letting on. He needed a plan. He needed to get away.

     Katsuki Yuuri. Wanted criminal. He put his head in his hands and began to sob. If he didn’t turn himself in, he would be running for the rest of his life. He would never sit under his tree again. He would never run errands. He might not ever see his family again. The weight of the situation caught up with him. He began to cry even harder until he was basically screaming. Phichit grabbed his waist from behind and pulled him onto the bed, holding him and allowing him to sob until he fell asleep. Phichit would let him rest for a while before walking him.

 

* * *

 

 

     The Night was there, right beside him. They were in the meadow sitting under the tree. The Night was staring at him. Viktor immediately tensed.

     "Who is the Snow Prince?” It asked.

     “I’m-“

     “No, the Snow Prince does not know.” It explained, sighing and letting its head fall back. Viktor followed its gaze up to the sky, which, to his surprise, had been replaced with a mirror image of the earth below. He could see himself and recognized his outfit instantly as the one he was crowned in. Something made him snap his head away from the mirror to study at his real legs. If his silk pants were clean here, then why was he covered in blood in his reflection? Viktor rapidly turned his eyes towards the sky once more to verify what he saw before. A feeling primal in nature begged him to shut his eyes when the reflection revealed the Night inches away from his face. Something inside of him screamed that he was in grave danger. He was paralyzed in fear, just like when he was attacked in the woods.

     "The Snow Prince believes he is King… Viktor felt its warm breath fall from his ear to the crook of his neck, “…but the Snow Prince is just the boy left on the battlefield.” Viktor prepared himself to look into the monster that the Night had become, but, when he opened his eyes, the Night had vanished. A fierce lightning bolt and pain oozing up his legs brutally informed him that the tall grass in the meadow was ablaze. The flames grew to heights unimaginable and licked at the mirror-sky, causing it to fog and crack into an infinite web. Silver glass rained. Leaves shredded from the tree by the downpour fueled the fire surrounding him. He inhaled the thick smoke deeply and, at the climax of his breath, the world went silent.

     Viktor began to cry.

     He knew what happened next. He knew this scene. He knew this War. The battle cry.

     The flames parted like a rock dividing a river and revealed a foreign soldier. The light from the flames caused the spear in the warrior’s hands to sparkle. Viktor rose his own hand to cast a spell, but could only watch in exhausted horror as his hand melted away. He woke when the foreign spear impaled him.

     He jolted when he realized he wasn’t the only one in the bed. The Night was there, sitting on the edge of his bed. He knew, innately, that this wasn’t a dream.

     "The Snow Prince took something,” It said, with its back turned.

     “What does that mean?!” He cried, getting on his knees. “All of this, tell me what it means!”

     The Night simply turned to look him in the eyes. “The Snow Prince must fix what he has done.”

     “Yuuri?! Yuuri, please-” He begged.

     “The Snow Prince,” it said, getting up to stand over him on his bed, “has taken something. If he does not fix what he’s done,” it grabbed his neck and began to choke him, “he will melt.” Viktor tried to use ice magic but failed. Desperate, he reached for something, _anything_ , on the nightstand to defend himself and ended up knocking off a glass candle holder. The sound of it shattering on the floor was the last thing he heard before all of his senses were consumed by the ringing in his ears. Then, release.

     “Viktor! Viktor, _fuck,_ what happened?”

           

* * *

 

 

     Phichit gently sat Yuuri up. “It’s time to talk about a game plan.” Yuuri rubbed his eyes and sniffed. “Yuuri, you’re about to enter a really difficult time, but I have full confidence in you. While you were taking a nap, I found this map…”

     Yuuri wanted to ball up and cry again, but he paused. Why was he crying? Was he really mourning his mundane, daily tasks… or was he upset that he suddenly wasn’t in control of his situation? He had let someone else define his situation. He had let someone redefine him when that person didn’t have that right. In that moment, Yuuri promised himself that he would never let anyone tell him what he was and wasn’t.

     Even if it was unintentional, he had made enemies with one of the most powerful men in the world. If he wanted to survive, he would have to stop crying.

     “I don’t want to run.”

     “You don’t want to what?”

     “I don’t want to run.” Phichit looked at the far wall, then down at the map, then at Yuuri.

     “Well, that makes things a little more complicated. Are you planning on staying in the royal prison for the rest of your life?”

     “No! No, not at all. Remember when we got home and your father told us that one of the Kingsmen had told _him_ that I was being charged with attempting to murder the King?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Well, since that obviously wasn’t _me_ , I was thinking of turning myself in and, while I’m at the palace, actually figuring out who it was.”

     “Firstly, how do you know that King Viktor won’t kill you on the spot once he finds you? And, let’s say he _does_ take you to the Royal Prison, how do you know that you’ll find the person who did it there?” Yuuri looked away. “You’re not a magic user, Yuuri. Even if you _did_ find the person, they’re probably very dangerous. You’d have no way to defend yourself.” Yuuri sighed. Phichit was right, but he wasn’t going to give up.

     “Phichit!” He yelled, standing. “Please teach me how to use magic!”

     “Here?” Yuuri nodded. “Now?!” Yuuri nodded faster. “Well, I’m far from polished. I can’t do much, unlike my parents. Our Inclination is influencing magic, but I have no idea what kind of magic you might be Inclined to.” Influencing magic focused mainly on affecting what your enemy could and could not do. On that battlefield, Influencers would usually hide soldiers and medics from the enemy’s sight. The strongest Influencers could even slightly modify the thoughts and actions of their opponents. It was one of the hardest magics to study and practice.

     But Phichit wasn’t good at magic at all. His parents were, but he certainly wasn’t. He had never _needed_ to be good at magic. And he didn’t want to even think about how hard it would be to teach Yuuri magic. No one in Yuuri’s family had studied magic, to his knowledge. He had no idea what type of magic Yuuri was Inclined to.

     Inclination was funny that way. Usually genetic, it, in its simplest form, was a predisposition to a certain type of elemental magic. Northern royalty with Nikiforov blood had a strong Inclination to ice magic. Some, like King Viktor, had learned other types of magic, but it must have really been a struggle. There was a rumor that he had even learned fire magic, the complete opposite to his Inclination. Everyone was Inclined to some magic or another, but finding it was the issue.

    And, before you even _touch_ elemental magic, you have to learn Light magic, too! He would be lucky if he could even teach Yuuri how to summon a Light weapon in the next _week_! And, to make matters worse, Light magic is not powerful enough to be relied on completely for self-defense.

     Phichit sighed.

     “Just… teach me the very basics. If I learn the basics, I can practice on my own and get stronger…” Yuuri’s eyes lit up, and he slapped his hands down on Phichit’s shoulders. “Why don’t I learn the basics from you, then hide out in the Forest until I get stronger? The Kingsmen would never be able to navigate through the Forest!”

     “So even if the King leaves a few knights behind after his trip, you’ll be safe!”

     “And I can get stronger while I’m in hiding!”

     “Okay, Yuuri. If you believe you can do it, I’ll believe in you!” They both smiled and hugged one another. “Let’s start with the basics.”

     “Sorry, but no one in my family uses magic.” Yuuri seemed embarrassed, curling in on himself. Phichit noticed how quickly Yuuri could oscillate between timidity and confidence. If he was going to get stronger, he would have to lean to believe in himself; although, his self-consciousness might come in handy somehow.

     Magic wasn’t something Yuuri had thought about much. He had never felt any kind of urge to study or use magic; he had no use for it. Magic was a weapon. Usually only people in the military were magic users, and even then most still preferred to rely on physical weapons rather than summoned ones. Regular people didn’t need tridents made of fire and icicle spears.

     No one in his family was a magic user; although, his father often joked about wanting to learn fire magic so he could heat up midnight snacks faster. In Hasetsu, magic wasn’t really an art that was pursed, unless you were planning on going into the military. Yuuri often completely forget that this had been the Chulanont’s path. They both participated in the military as Influencers. They’re retired now, and barely use their magic. They had taught Phichit technique when he was young but had him from using any if at all possible.

     As the old saying went: _Magic: utility and misfortune._

     “Oh, sure. Here’s the very basics: you have Light inside you. You can think of it like a soul, but they have some fundamental differences that you don’t need to worry about. Anyways, because you have Light, you can use Light magic. It’s not powerful, but since I’m not sure what your Inclination is…” Yuuri winced, “…then light magic may be a good start.”

     “Okay. Show me how to do it.”

     Phichit hummed. The hardest part of Light magic was teaching someone how to access it. The most popular exercise, the one his parents had used on him, was throwing him in head first. With Yuuri, though, he would have to try something different. Maybe meditation would work best? “First, you’ll want to cross your legs and put your hands somewhere comfortable. Now, close your eyes.” Yuuri obeyed. “I want you to imagine yourself in a void. Not how you physically look, but how your soul looks. What color is it? What shape is it? Don’t let go of that image. Now, imagine your physical form sitting here in this void right by your soul. Once you’ve done that, place a dark energy somewhere in the void. Feel it pulling at your soul, trying to absorb its power. You have to destroy it, but how? Do you slash it? Punch it? Crush it? Take a deep breath. Slowly, very slowly, I want you to open your eyes, okay? Keep taking deep breaths.” Yuuri exhaled and gently opened his eyes. In front of him, the blurry image of a bow. Yuuri reached for it, but it vanished like smoke in the air, leaving behind a small dusting of ash.

     “Woah!”

     “Yeah, I know! That was really fast, Yuuri! It took me weeks to start getting projections,” Pichit said, then, to himself, “You must have a really strong Light…”

     “Let’s keep working. I want to get stronger.”

 

* * *

 

 

     Morning proved to be a panic for everyone staying at the Inn. The Kingsmen were frantically checking the entire building and exterior for any signs of the King’s attacker. Meanwhile, in his room, Viktor was being attended to by Christophe and Mari. Hiroko and Toshiya were in the kitchen preparing meals for all of the Kingsmen and the King. Working gave them a chance to deal with their grief. Still, dark circles pulled at their eyes.

     “King Viktor, how are you feeling?” Mari asked. He gently shook his head. They had been tending to him since his attack. Even though he slipped in and out of consciousness, they learned early on that this was an attack on his Light. Physically, he was fine. Mentally, Mari could only imagine what it was like. To have one’s Light almost completely drained is agony. Like losing your soul. “Still lightheaded?” He nodded once.

     It broke Christophe’s heart seeing Viktor like this. He laid on his back, unable to move or stay awake. He had become dangerously pale, more pale than usual. Since the attack, Christophe had gone through a complete list of suspects. Viktor’s room didn’t have windows and the Inn was heavily guarded, so it couldn’t have been just a random town citizen. Also, since this was an attack on Viktor’s Light, magic had to be involved. That ruled out the entire Katsuki family, other than the youngest. He went through every single Kingsmen, and yet he knew it couldn’t have been any of them. They were too loyal, each having pledged his entire life to Viktor. It had to be the youngest Katsuki.

     Mari turned to Christophe. “I have an idea. His Inclination is ice magic, right?”

     “Yeah, all of the Northern Royals are ice Inclined.” She hummed and tapped her foot.

     “I’ll be back,” she mumbled and left leaving Christophe and Viktor alone for the first time since he was attacked. He leaned in to Viktor’s ear.

     “Viktor, I need you to confirm who attacked you. I know that you know.” Viktor opened his eyes and tears began to fall. He opened his mouth but was obviously having a difficult time speaking. “Just a word or two. I know it’s difficult.”

     “Yuuri,” Viktor’s voice was painfully weak and hoarse.

     "Yuuri?” Viktor nodded. He opened his mouth as to speak again, but Mari opened the door with a large, tattered sheet.

     “Alright. We have to get him outside,” Mari said. She began to lay the sheet out of the other side of the bed, as if her plan was to roll the King on and carry him off on it.

     “Outside?”

     “Yeah. We’re going to lay him in the snow.” Christophe crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one foot.

     “No, I don’t think we are.”

     “Look, if this doesn’t work, you can lock me up right beside Yuuri. For now, just fucking help me carry him.” Christophe gave in and they situated Viktor onto the sheet and hoisted him from the bed, Mari grabbing his feet and Christophe holding his hands and supporting his head. They ungracefully, but carefully, carried him down the stairs and into the snow out front. She began to bury him in snow, despite Christophe warning to call the Kingsmen on her. To be honest, Mari never thought that she would find herself covering her near-unconscious King in snow in her front yard, but here she was. It didn’t help that this Christophe was trying to threaten her. She knew his type. He followed Viktor around like a lapdog. Mari had never thought Viktor was that great, especially considering the decisions he had made since first sitting on the throne. She thought it was naive that Yuuri had tried to maintain a positive image of the royal family for so long; although, she was sure that his happy-tint was long gone.

     Poor Yuuri. She was certain of his innocence, especially after he had confronted her about his “negative interaction” with the King. He had probably cried at Phichit’s. A lot. But Mari held faith that he was able to pick himself up and make a plan, whatever that was. It was all up to him, now. This was his moment. Also, fuck Viktor. She “accidentally” hit him hard while covering him in snow.

     “Oops,” she deadpanned, “my apologies, _your Majesty._ ” Christophe snorted and rolled his eyes.

     “Are you trying to make him heal faster by burying him alive?”

     "Yeah, actually, I am. His Light is injured, not his physical form, and his Light is so deeply inclined towards Ice magic. Hence, cold snow. Y’know, I’m actually surprised you, the King’s Hand, wasn’t aware of how Inclination works. I mean, I’m just a peasant and I know this shit.” She cocked her head, “Are you feeling better, my King, or does Christophe need to reserve an extra cell?”

     “Better,” Viktor said, voice weak but not quite as hoarse. Mari presented Christophe with a rather smug look.

     “How did you figure this out _really_? You’re not a magic user, and I honestly doubt you would put your freedom on the line based on a whim.”

     “I’m actually rather familiar with elemental magic, although I’m not interested in practicing any myself.” Mari stood and brushed off her hands on her pajama pants.

     "How?” Christophe was genuinely curious. Normal subjects were usually not only completely disinterested in magic, but they also knew next to nothing about it.

     “My ex-fiancé was in your military,” she admitted, looking down at Viktor.

     “Ex?”

     “Ex. She’s dead.” Mari walked back towards the Inn, spitting in the snow beside the door before disappearing inside.

 

* * *

 

 

     Morning came peacefully for the Chulanont’s. After practicing light magic for the better part of four hours, Yuuri had approached Phichit’s parents to ask for their advice. They were impressed with his progress in such a short amount of time, and were accepting of his plan on one condition: he was not to step outside the Forest until he felt he was truly ready. And, he was not to return to Hasetsu for at least one year. To anyone else, this may have seemed harsh, as if they were punishing him. But Yuuri understood what they meant. He understood every single word.

     To aid in his journey, they had given him several maps that illustrated the layout of the Northern Kingdom and surrounding states as well as a detailed layout of the castle and military training grounds. Yuuri had, at first, refused to accept them. These maps were too precious, too rare to just give away, but Phichit and his parents insisted. When morning came, he was even more confident.

     The Chulanont’s had placed the maps into a small backpack with extra food and water. They also gifted him a small traveler’s hatchet for hunting and self-defense. He thanked them again and again for everything they had done in the past twenty-four hours and promised he would survive. After one last hug from Phichit, he opened the back door and walked out into Hasetsu Forest.

     The Northern Kingdom was the largest kingdom in the Four Corners. It earned its namesake from being the northernmost kingdom, of course, but it also had a bit of eastern territory in its southernmost half. Hasetsu Forest separated the larger northern half from the much smaller eastern half. Expansive and mysterious, few lived within the actual Forest. Towns like Hasetsu were peppered along the perimeter, but no large settlements existed inside. It’s easy to misunderstand the relationship between the people and the Forest, however. Subjects of the Northern Kingdom depended on the Forest for food and materials, but the Forest also relied on the people. The roads that passed through were its veins and the people its lifeblood, never venturing too far from the path.  Hasetsu Forest was beautiful, strange, and _alive_ , but only the residents around the town truly understood this. If you respected the Forest and its dark inhabitants, the Forest would respect you.

     Most importantly, the Northern Royal Family drew strength from Hasetsu Forest; although, the true nature of their relationship has been lost with time.

     Yuuri loved the Forest, and it loved Yuuri. He wasn’t aware of the impact of his actions, but Yuuri had given so much to the Forest. Every spring when birds built nests in the trees in and along his meadow, babies were destined to fall out. He would gently put them back into their nests and ensure that their homes wouldn’t be blown away in the next storm. He had picked the wildflowers in the meadow into beautiful bouquets for his family. He had sat against the tree and read aloud to the tall grass for hours: novels and biographies and his own poetry. Now, as he set out on the journey that would change the course of his life, the Forest welcomed him. Something spiritual connected them, as if he was born there. Born to live there. And, finally, Yuuri was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor to the Stage


	6. A Visitor to the Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Nikiforov tries to impress a girl. Christophe gets yelled at. Yuuri wastes a spiritual arrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note: i'm playing around with the formatting (ive never used ao3 before, so im still getting used to things), so please excuse that this chapter is formatted a little differently than previous chapters. im just trying to make sure my work is as readable as possible :)

He leaned over the edge of the balcony. The breeze combed through his silver hair and stung his eyes. Several Kingsmen pulled at his coat, begging him to sit back down, but he dismissed them. When his father first demanded he make a public appearance at the open-air ballet, he had whined for the better part of a week. It wasn't until now, now, now that he understood what he had been missing. His father was right. All this time, his father had been right. Imagine that.

"Just look at her," he turned back briefly, Father sitting stern. "She's gorgeous."

"Dmitri-"

"Father, please." For so long had fucked around: bedding random men and women, brushing off important events and meetings, and disrespecting his family name in whatever way possible. He was the only son, the only heir, to the North Corner, which meant he could damn near do anything he wanted save for blatant treason. And his father always scolded him that he's missing something, a vital part of life, that he needs to find before his coronation or so help the kingdom, but never did Dmitri understand what he meant.  _What could I be missing_ , he thought,  _if everything I've ever wanted is at my fingertips?_

"Father, I know what I was missing, and now I'm going to go get it and there's not much you can do to stop me." The King narrowed his eyes then sighed. Dmitri took that as giving permission, so he threw himself off of the balcony. The Kingsmen panicked, but the King took one hand from his crystal scepter and held it up.

"Let him go. If he falls, we'll pick him up. We always do." And, after a few seconds, they, too, understood. Dmitry Nikiforov, the Wind Walker, was using the breeze as stair steps to the stage. His long, weightless cloak floated behind him as if it was not tied to the same earth his feet were. The crowd whispered beneath him, but he neither heard nor cared. The ballerina continued to dance, not yet noticing that the band had stopped playing. It wasn't until he reached the bottom step and planted a foot on solid ground did she strike her final pose. Her eyes were tightly closed as she waited for applause, but none came. She opened her eyes and saw an outstretched, gloved hand and silver hair.

"Viktoria Lebedev," he bowed before her, "After watching you dance tonight, I realize exactly what I have been missing for my entire life: Grace." She took his hand timidly and he stood tall, "Your Grace."

* * *

Christophe sighed looking at Yakov's letter. They had been in communication since Viktor's attack. Yakov wasn't always a pleasant man, and, unfortunately, that was evident in his correspondence. Half of the letter was written in all capitals, but Christophe supposes it effectively got his point across: he wasn't happy about any part of the situation. Especially involving the Katsuki boy. It seemed as though Yakov was torn. He was upset, of course, that Viktor had been attacked not once, but thrice. Christophe was hesitant to tell him that the boy disappeared and no one in the family genuinely knew anything about his whereabouts. It seemed as though Yakov was also upset that Viktor had condemned the boy without talking to his family at all. Most importantly, Yakov though it best that Viktor return home.

Actually, his exact words were:  _Home and away from that Forest._

Strange.

" _Yakov_ ," he began, " _It is with the utmost_ \- no, that won't work.  _I regret to inform you that Katsuki Yuuri has disappeared. A local source spotted him entering Hasetsu Forest alone; however, we cannot pursue him into the Forest as the branches of the trees have outright slapped a few of our men, which, of course, is very strange and has decreased morale exponentially. Unfortunately, we have failed to gather any further information. I will keep you updated as we begin our journey back to the Capitol._ " He signed and sealed the letter and set it on his desk.

"Christophe, when are we leaving?" Viktor sat in his bed. After the events of last night and this morning, he was obviously exhausted. His Light was recovering well, thanks to Mari, so Christophe wasn't worried about babysitting him.

"I've been writing to Yakov."

"And what is he saying?" Viktor perked up immediately. Christophe knew he would have to tread lightly over this subject. After all, the King has been… off recently, due to his injuries, most likely.

"He's… upset about your condition… but still a little skeptical of your decision to condemn Katsuki Yuuri." Viktor began to argue but was cut off.

"Yakov thinks that, for your safety, you cancel your meeting with JJ and head back to the castle." Yakov really wanted Viktor back to scold him. Christophe expected him to put up a fight, but he seemed… defeated.

"Alright. Tell Yurio and Otabek to gather everything. We leave tonight.

"Yes, your Grace."

* * *

He felt the Forest still. The ground under him hardened, supporting him firmly. Legs crossed. Branches began to relax, lower, making a circle around him. Protecting him. The let a slow breath escape, and placed his hands on his knees. Now, he could close his eyes.

There he sat, alone, in the dark. Across from an evil. Evil. What was evil, really, but an absence of Light? Imagining a dark presence to defend himself had become increasingly more difficult as he settled in the Forest. Perhaps he related to things dark too easily. Perhaps he couldn't see them as the evil because he was around them too much. After all, anything can lose its ability to frighten if one is exposed to it for so long. Or, perhaps, he had become numb to fear totally? He chuckled. Numb to fear? He hadn't been in the Forest  _that_  long.

But, nonetheless, he was able to think up some dark and finally try to focus on summoning and keeping his bow. He could create it without any difficulty. Keeping it was the hard part. For some reason, it always disintegrated into ash. How odd, that Light would turn to ash…

He didn't dwell on it.

He opened his eyes. There was his bow, unmoving, in front of him. He centered himself once more before reaching out to it. Before it touched it, something told him to pause. A strange feeling. A memory.

_Cold. Very cold. It was rough, like running your hands on bark during wintertime. But, at the same time, it soothed him. Chilled him. Soft white linen. He looked up. Ice blue. Silver. Cold. Beautiful._

He took a deep breath in, and nervously let it go. He let it go. He reached out to grab the bow. It was hot. It burned, but his hand was cold- the same cold from his memory, if it was even a memory and not his imagination.

He held his bow for the first time. He felt powerful, in control. The Forest sung in his ear, rejoicing at the return of a lost Son. It moved, twisted, contorted around him, forming a staircase to the treetops. He stood and began to walk, bow in hand, towards the sky. As he emerged from the leaves, a gorgeous, infinite view greeted him. The Forest whispered in his ear, _to look, see, with your soul_. He allowed it to cloud his mind and sharpen his vision. He saw past the Forest, past Hasetsu, past all the other little trading towns and rivers and lakes. He saw past everything that was the North Corner until, finally, the Forest showed him the Castle.

_Draw_ , it said.

And he did. He summoned an arrow with the flick of his wrist and drew his scorching bow with iced fingers. And he aimed right at the front door. The grand entrance.

Shoot, it said.

And he did.

* * *

_Fuck this. Fuck everything about this._

They were told to give up. To come home.

Honestly, it was bullshit. Well, at least half of it was bullshit. Everyone wanted to go home, but no one wanted to give up. Everyone wanted to return to the King's side, but no one wanted to return empty handed.

_But_ , he sighed to himself, _enough is enough_. We've been here forever, and the pig is obviously not going to come out. Yuri watched as another one of his peers charged the line of trees.

_Huh_ , Yuri thought as he passed through,  _maybe he actually did it_. But then the Knight was ungracefully thrown from the Forest and landed with a horrible thud.

"I think it's time we give up for the day," the Kingsman winced, still lying on his back. Yuri nodded, and they made their way back to camp, which had become more than a little warn down over the last few weeks.

He sighed. Weeks of this. Weeks of being poked, tripped, and thrown took a toll on his unit. They had to go home, even if it meant facing the King empty handed.

He retired to his tent and sat cross-legged, his preferred position to meditate. Maybe he could try to reach Beka. They hadn't been able to talk since Viktor had left for the Capitol, weeks ago. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip.

He opened his eyes. It was dark, darker than usual. He could barely see his reflection in the water he was sitting in. How strange. Yuri stood, enjoying how the water slid down his leg, and began to walk.

"Beka?" He called out. It echoed.

Silence.

"Yura? Where are you? It's so dark…" Yuri jumped, jogging towards the source of the voice.

"Beka, I'm right here!" He saw Otabek in the distance and ran faster. Otabek waved.

"It's good to see you after all this time."

"Yeah, I just got a letter from Christophe saying that Yakov wants us home."

"You're coming back?"

"Yeah," Yuri said, sitting in the water, "but he didn't give any details." Otabek joined him.

"Viktor isn't well. He's locked up in his room, and we haven't been allowed to see him. Yakov told me it has something to do with Yuuri. It's really been eating up some of the men here…"

"Fuck! Why didn't Christophe say that?!"

"No one is really supposed to know," Otabek sighed.

"I just… I feel so helpless. Like, I'm so close to that fucking pig! I could kill him from here if he wasn't such a coward and hid behind that stupid forest!"

"Then come home. You're the King's Cat. Come back by his side. I understand you're hesitant to return without fulfilling your orders, but the King needs you home." Yuri nodded. He would take his men and go home.

* * *

Viktor laid quietly, darkness coolly embracing him. It had been months since he returned to the castle from Hasetsu. Three long months. He had believed, at first, and foolishly, that the initial attack on his Light by the Night had been his last.

He was wrong.

Every night, it came for him. Every day he spent recovering. The Kingsmen, Yakov, Christophe, and even the most decorated magic users in the entire damn kingdom could no nothing to stop the endless torture he endured when the sun set over the Capitol. The Night had morphed from a captivator to his captor. If it weren't for the cave that had become of his room, surely he would have gone mad. How ironic that the boy praised for his brilliant Light would die by the dark.

"Oh, My King," a hand reached out for him from the void."Viktor," a voice yanked him back to consciousness. He was too weak to speak but he opened his eyes.

"I've brought someone to help you." Why can't Yakov just let him die already? Nevertheless, a frail, knobby hand brushed his hair out of his face.

"Good evening, my King." Was it evening? The artificial darkness of his room gave no clue as to the time of day. If it was evening, then the Night would be stopping by soon, like a jailer to deliver dinner. "I am forest dweller. I was summoned by your advisor." Her voice was tough like bark, yet… kind. Viktor had a hard time believing that Yakov would summon a regular forest dweller, but, then again, he was desperate. The North Corner had already lost its two monarchs. It couldn't afford to lose its last without a clear heir. The Capitol had felt the weight of Viktor's absence; although, news of his condition had not yet reached commoners outside of the Capitol's walls. Yakov didn't know how long that would last.

"I know who comes in the night, young King, but I do not yet know what he wants from you. I'm sorry, but you have upset a terrible power. I cannot assure you that you will be able to atone for your sins against it, but I will do what I can to lessen your pain." Viktor covered her hand with his. She dismissed Yurio and Yakov, who reluctantly left them alone.

She stood beside his bed for another two hours, calmly running her hands through his hair. She sung a soft melody in a language Viktor didn't recognize. After the final note of the song, there was a heavy silence.

Viktor opened his eyes to see if she would continue but was filled with dread.

The Night was there.

Sitting at the edge of his bed.

Turned away.

Listening.

"Young one, you are a long way from home."

"I know, Grandmother." Viktor froze, unable to breathe. At any minute, it could turn and shove an arrow down his throat. Fuck. He couldn't do this again. Fuck. He just wanted to die.

"Why have you come here? I'm sure the Forest misses you terribly." She continued to play with Viktor's hair in an effort to calm him.

"I wish-" its voice cracked, "I wish to wake in the Forest again, but I cannot leave this place."

"And why is that, my dear?"

"The one who bloodied snow took something from the Forest. And now I must extinguish his Light and take it back. We didn't know where to find him until he stepped back into the Forest. Fool." The Night slid off the bed and walked to the center of the room. "I will not kill him under Grandmother's watch, but eventually, he will melt." It vanished.

Viktor reached again for the woman's hand. His emotions, relief, confusion, grief, anger, overcame him and he sobbed into her palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! if you're interested in talking to me about this fic or yoi in general, you can reach me at my tumblr: musicofyoi


	7. A Visitor to the Capital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri reaches the Capital, but his parents are worried. A flashback from Otabek's past. Viktor gets an idea.

Yuuri waded deeper into the river. Shade provided by the thick canopy above him made the water deliciously cool. He ran his hands over his body. Months and months of living in the Forest had certainly toned him, or, at least, the forest said it had been months. Oh, how he had changed! Physically, he had slimmed down. A lot. His beautiful belly had been replaced with something hollower, and, although he mourned the loss of his filled-out form, he was proud of how strong he had become.

A rustle near his belongings caught his attention. Yuuri lowered ear-deep into the river and slithered closer to shore. There, by his backpack, was a small Light-less creature, no larger than house cat. It was a strange sight to see considering how it was several hours from twilight. In any case, Yuuri had to take care of it least it steal his food. He emerged silently, dark water cascading down his muscles as he reached behind him for his bow. This simple action, his right hand back towards the line that divided his shoulder blades, had become short-hand for the ten minutes of meditation that was required early-on to summon his light-weapon. As he drew it, light spilled from the tip, and the poor creature shrieked when it pierced its skull. Then dust. Always ash. His bow turned to ash.

Now that _that_ was taken care of, he could finish what he came here for: bathing then catching dinner. He made quick work of both all while talking to the Forest. It had been rather chatty recently, whispering about recent travelers and its excitement for the coming summer. Yuuri smiled as it gushed on about how proud it was of his progress.

“I see we’ve been awfully talkative recently, friend.” Yuuri laughed. The forest shied, confessing that it wanted to cherish the last moments with Yuuri before he left for the Capitol. Yuuri couldn’t believe how long ago it had been since that day, how weak he had been. A smile graced his lips thinking about how much he had improved in so little time. Now all that’s left was to make his way to the Castle. The trip shouldn’t take more than a week on foot, but he could cut the trip in half if he stole a horse. Then what would he do when he reached the Capitol? He would have to find somewhere to stay while he gathered his bearings, but that wouldn’t be hard. Even though he’d changed in so many ways, he was still Yuuri.

* * *

 

“Otabek Altin,” The King’s Aid had said. “King Viktor Nikiforov wishes to see you.”

Oh.

He had worked hard, certainly, but he didn’t expect this to happen so soon.

What if he wasn’t ready?

 “Are you coming, Altin?” He nodded and followed the aid off of the training field. The other soldiers stared at his back. He could feel it, but he cleared his mind. Now wasn’t the time to be self-conscious. It wasn’t too far of a walk. The aid had led him to the observation deck where he often saw the King sitting and to a pair of closed doors.

 “Alright, he’s just through there. Good luck,” the aid said, sitting on the King’s chair and pulling out a book.

Otabek took a deep breath to center himself and pushed open the doors. It was a large room, but almost completely empty with the exception of an ornate chair in which the King was currently sitting in. The Cat sat on the arm on the chair, scowling. He closed the doors behind him and took a knee, bowing his head.

 “I think you know why you’re here, Otabek,” The King said. “I always thought it funny how we don’t have a traditional Kingsmen induction ceremony, especially with all the tradition we _do_ have.” Otabek remained bowed.

 “But, of course, I think I must administer a test. After all, it’s what my father did. What do you think, Otabek? Are you ready?” The King twirled his long hair between his fingers.

Otabek looked up, making firm eye contact with the Cat and then the King.

 “Yes.”

 “Very well. Are you acquainted with Yuri Plisetsky? You two will have a little go. Is that okay with you, Cat?” The Cat nodded. “You may begin whenever.” The Cat slid off the arm of the chair and stood in the center of the room, hip jutted to one side and his hands on his waist. Otabek stood, and they looked at each other. Despite being rather small, Otabek knew better than to underestimate the Cat. After all, he had heard rumors that he had been raised by snow leopards and was brought to the civilization when the King found him eating a deer raw while taking his dog on a walk. They say during his first day training, he bit through a solid metal training sword and swallowed it. These things were probably untrue, Otabek inferred, but he shouldn’t dismiss their existence.

 “Tsk, are you afraid of a little cat?” Yuri teased, walking towards Otabek. “I won’t hurt you too bad, but I can’t promise I won’t bite…”

* * *

 

The Capitol. Two months ago, Yuuri would have been ecstatic to step foot inside the city surrounding the castle, but the potential of that joy had long faded. He was here for answers, to get his old life back, to clear his name once and for all.

Yuuri stood at the edge of the city. It was easily the largest in the North Corner; although it was far from the kindest. Crusty bureaucrats, two-faced diplomats, and slimy nobles were the largest demographic. Large mountains surrounded the city, and above it all sat the castle, carved into the largest mountain. Yuuri had seen sketches of this landscape pass through the Chulanont’s store, but none paid any justice to the sight before him. He lingered.

Walking through the streets was a different experience. At first, the noise overwhelmed him and he had to cover his ears. No one seemed to pay him any mind, however, which was a relief because he stuck out like a boy who had been living in the woods for months in the middle of a bustling, urban environment. Finding the central market was easy. He used the money he had pickpocketed from a few police to buy a few snacks.

 “The fruit is marked as 5 silver a piece, but you look like a traveler, and I’ve always wanted to travel, so I’ll give you a discount,” the lady behind the counter winked and wiped her hands on her apron.

 “Thank you. Could I ask for you for some directions?”

 “Ooo, a boy from the country! I love your accent. Knock yourself out, dear.”

 “Do you happen to know where Minako’s is?”

 “Her bar is right down the street on the left. Is Minako is a friend of yours? I hear she’s from the countryside, too.”

 “She’s a friend from my hometown. I traveled all this way to see her. Do you know her?”

 “Darling, everyone in this town knows her. Let me give you some city advice, kid. Minako has some… powerful connections. I’m glad she has such a sweet country boy as a friend, but don’t let her pull you into her business, alright?” Yuuri nodded his head and thanked her again for the discount and the directions.

It had been at least three years since he last saw Minako. She was one of his dear friends from Hasetsu and a mentor to him ever since he was young. Throughout her adolescence, she had studied dance here in the Capitol. She moved back to Hasetsu once she got older, then back to the Capitol again when her Uncle died and left her his business. The last time Yuuri saw her, she had confessed that she had no plans on moving back to Hasetsu, ever. Her business had really taken off, and she had even started giving dancing lessons on the floor above.

He found the bar easily thanks to the woman at the market. Reaching out to open the door, Yuuri heard loud chatter and laughing from inside. Should he really do this? What if Minako doesn’t want to see him again? What if she doesn’t want to put everything at risk to house Yuuri? What if he was too much of a burden? _No,_ he thought, _those are old Yuuri thoughts. I’m not a burden. I’m going to be okay._

 “Yuuri?! Is that you?” He turned around quickly towards the alley where the voice was coming from, and surely enough, Minako was there putting out scraps. He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head instead of answering.

“It is you!” She ran and hugged him tightly, lifting him slightly off his feet. “What are you doing in the Capitol?” Letting Yuuri go, Minako gave him a once over. Her face fell when she saw what he was wearing.

 “Oh, _shit_ , Yuuri. Come inside.”

* * *

 

 “My King, I’m happy to see how much you’ve grown in only a month.” He looked at himself in the mirror. For the first time in months, since Hasetsu, he looked royal. No more dark circles under his eyes. No more bruises or scratches or wounds or marks. The traditional Northern royal pants and jacket looked gorgeous on his once-again filled-out frame. Regaining the weight he had lost had been hard, but it felt so fucking good to be healthy again.

 “It’s all thanks to you, Grandmother. I would have died if you hadn’t come.”

 “You’ve changed in other ways as well, my Lord.” He smiled and turned towards her, the trail of several tears lingering on his cheeks. She held out her arms and they embraced.

A knock on the door. Yakov stepped in. He nodded in respect to the old woman.

 “Viktor, we need to talk about your duties now that you’ve been feeling better. Do you think you’re fit to continue working?” Viktor nodded and smiled.

 “I’m ready to continue.”

 “Since you’ve been absent from the public eye for so long, the other advisors suggest that you throw some massive party.” Yakov crossed his arms and sighed. “I don’t agree. I think it’s a waste of time, money, and-“

 “Let’s throw a party! Grandmother, will you give me the honor of throwing a celebration in your honor? I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.” She smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder.

 “Let’s have a celebration in honor of your growth.”

 “In honor of my growth,” he trailed off, glancing at himself through the mirror, then turned back to Yakov with hand smoothing back his hair, “and the growth of the North Corner!”

* * *

 

Hiroko sat at the table, silent. It had been months. Months. Months since she last saw Yuuri. Yuuri, her precious son. He knew he was innocent. Everyone in the town knew.

A knock at the door. The Chulanont.

 “Hiroko, we need to talk about Yuuri.”

 “Please, come in.”

 “Do you have any… guests right now?” Oh. Guests. She understood. They must mean Kingsmen.

 “The last left a week or so ago.”

 “That’s a relief. We have some news for you, Hiroko.” She should have been worried. Any mother should have been worried, but she knew Yuuri, and she knew the Chulanonts. This wasn’t bad news. They were going to give her hope.

“Wait, let me get my husband. I want him to hear it, too.” And they waited for the whole family. And they told them. They told them everything, not sparring any details of Yuuri’s situation or escape or plan. And Hiroko wanted to be a little angry, to ask why they waited so long to tell them that they son was probably going to be okay. She opened her mouth to interrupt, but Phichit must have seen her and understood.

“Mom and Dad practiced Influencing magic in the military, right? That’s interrogation magic. We knew that there were still Kingsmen in town, and we didn’t want to put Yuuri in danger in case any of them were Influencers and were trying to manipulate you. That would put you guys in danger, too,” Phichit explained. She smiled, finally understanding, and nodded.

“You know who he’s probably with right now,” Mari spoke up, “Minako. He’s in good hands.” Everyone agreed.

Toshiya slapped his leg, “That’s Yuuri! He’s a man now, and he’s going to go to the Capitol and stick it to those stupid nobles and clear his name. That’s our son. He’ll be okay.”

“In fact,” Phichit said, smiling, “I think he’ll be great.”

* * *

 

“And now I’m here.” Yuuri sighed, looking around the room. It was rather plain despite Minako’s obvious efforts. A bookshelf in the corner had a few knick-knack decorations, and the table between their two chairs featured a nice centerpiece, but otherwise the room was almost completely bare.

“Fuck, Yuuri.” Her expression, unreadable.

“I just need a place to stay. I don’t want to get in your way or put you in danger, and I promise that I won’t-“ Minako began to laugh.

“Yuuri, of course you can stay. Hell, you could live here the rest of your life if you wanted. I have just one condition.” He balled his fits under the table and leaned in.

“Anything.” She leaned in.

“I want in.”

“You want in? In on what?” He feigned innocence.

“Oh, come on. I know you, Yuuri. You’re self-conscious and timid, but you’re fierce when you need to be. You didn’t spend forever in the fucking wilderness to learn how to apologize to that royal ass. I want in on your plan for _revenge_.” She leaned back and crossed her arms, waiting for a response. He sighed.

“Okay, yeah, I want revenge. And I have a plan.”

“Let’s hear it.” And so he told her how he was going to steal clothes from a Kingsmen and sneak into the palace. He would find his way to the throne room where King Viktor would be waiting. _Listen, King Viktor Nikiforov!_ He would yell. _I am Katsuki Yuuri, and you have wrongfully accused me of a crime I didn’t commit without evidence. If you do not pardon me immediately, then I will be forced to…_ Forced to do what? Kill him? What would that accomplish? And what about his original plan to find the real culprit? Fuck, he thought he had thought everything through. Maybe he should have just stayed in the woods.

“That’s not going to work. None of that is good or salvageable. We’re going to have to start over.” Yuuri sighed, then looked into Minako’s eyes. She was right, his plan was weak. If he was really going to redeem himself, he would have to be prepared for anything. Foolproof. He was going to be strong and smart like Minako. She remained unwavering in every trial that she faced throughout her life. Minako embodied courage, and Yuuri still had so much to learn from her. But, he made himself admit, he was strong and smart, too. Not everyone could live in the Forest for as long as he did. He needed to give himself more credit.

“Help me, Minako!” He said, standing, “I want to learn how to be brave from you!”

“You’re going to need a lot more than bravery to make this plan of yours work. Let’s start over completely. There have been some strange things happening around the castle recently that you might find interesting.”

“What do you mean?” He sat back down.

“No one’s seen the King for months, Yuuri. He hasn’t made a public appearance since he came back from Hasetsu.” Minako smiled, “But here’s the kicker: a few days ago some royal officials announced that the King was throwing a party. All the most influential people in the North Corner are invited.” She stood up and started looking for something in the room.

“Okay,” Yuuri thought aloud while Minako began rummaging through her bookshelf, “I steal clothes from a server at the party. I wait for King Viktor to be alone, then I ambush him and say, ‘ _King Viktor, my name is Katsuki Yuuri and-_ ‘”

“Yuuri, there’s no need for you to steal anyone’s clothes.” She went still, looking at something in her hands.

“How am I going to get into the party otherwise?” Minako turned to face Yuuri and held up a small, glistening piece of paper. She glided over to the table and slammed it down before him, smiling wickedly. He picked it up carefully. The royal crest was printed nicely in the top corner. Yuuri didn’t even need to read the print to know what this was.

“Because you’re coming with _me_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor to the Forest


	8. A Visitor to the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dmitri recalls having a hard time. Viktor tries to reconcile with his attacker. A flashback to Otabek’s past.

       “Again, again, again!"

       “But, Yakov, I’ve already run this drill forty times!”

       “Maybe forty more will fix your attitude, Prince Dmitri.”

        So, again, Dmitri fixed his posture and raised his hand above his head, the other rooted at the base of his stomach. He allowed his head to roll back and his eyes to close.

Inhale.

       First, the familiar. The cold. An ice mage must learn to balance the duality of all that’s cold; the fragility of a snowflake; the strength of thick ice; both freezing and melting.

       He calmed his mind. Ice control is localized in the mind. It’s logic, balance, the antithesis of muscle memory. _Silent mind_ , quiet as snow falling. _Clear intentions_ , strong as glaciers.

       Second, there is that which is foreign. It is unclear. Uncomplicated. Uncontrollable. Based in the lower abdomen, it is everything that is emotional, yet frail. The strength lies in the base, in the stomach, along with its only vulnerability. Fire’s ultimate irony is that targeting its source, its strength, is the only way to extinguish it.

       Fire.

       Ice.

 _Wind,_ he thought. Exhale. Both hands met in the middle with a loud clap, and a massive gust swept from his heart, danced down his arms, and flew in Yakov’s direction.

       The Wind Walker. That was his title. He wasn’t the first ice mage or Northern royal with the ability to perform this move, but he was the first to use it to walk. The technique, _his_ technique, was performed by dividing both ice and fire magic into separate halves of the body and controlling their output through the feet. If performing two contrasting types of magic simultaneously wasn’t hard enough, one must find a way to reunite their energies at furthest end of the body.

       He was the only person who could do it, and his father took enormous pride in it. In fact, Dmitri’s proficiency with ice magic was the only aspect of his life that his father approved of. No wonder, Dmitri intentionally made his life hell. Ever since his mother disappeared when he was a boy, he’d known his father had something to do with it. The Glacier Giant. That was the title given to his father when he married into the royal family. He was a high-ranking Kingsmen when he wed Dmitri’s mother. Yakov tells him that his mother’s title was Snow Seeker _._

       “Again.” Dmitri fixed his posture. _Why did she marry such an awful man?_ The gust at the end wasn’t as controlled as before.

       “Again.” _Maybe he lied to her? It was probably arranged._ The gust was much weaker.

       “Again.” _And now I’m here and she isn’t._ The direction of the gust became broader. _Maybe he forced her to flee._

       “Again.” _Maybe he killed her_. He could feel it stinging his eyes. Either way, Dmitri hated him and wished he would choke.

       “Again.” It went everywhere, pushing the tears out of his eyes.

       “Enough!” He fell to his knees and bowed his head. “I’ve had enough.”

       “Stupid boy. It’s the times when you’re most vulnerable that you need to use the wind the most desperately.”

       It sounded like Yakov-grade bullshit then, but he was right. He thanked him silently as he fell from off of the balcony towards the audience below. He was anxious, excited, fearful, and so grateful. He found the wind underneath his feet, and he walked towards the stage. 

* * *

 

       He stood in the garden, looking at each bud. The gardeners bowed as he passed.

       “King Viktor, we hope the garden is tended to your liking.” He motioned for them to rise.

       “Of course. The frost roses are looking gorgeous as ever. Excellent work, as always.” Viktor could tell they were both shocked. He hadn’t been… so appreciative in the past. Picky, whiney, distant, not always as kind as others deserved. When he was young, he overheard the royal attendants once jokingly insist that his title be The Bratty Baron. He had told his father, but he had only laughed. _I’ll be certain to add that to our list under Snowflake Snitch._

       But it’s true, the garden was looking more beautiful than ever. The entire palace was decorated for the upcoming party, and Viktor couldn’t be more excited. He not only asked the palace attendants to decorate the castle, but to breathe life into it. Blue frost roses in places flowers had never been displayed before, dusty old paintings replaced with newer art from local artists, and all new upholstery and curtains. Viktor even made sure that time was spent redecorating the quarters of the castle employees who lived on the palace grounds (which was a small amount as most lived in the city, but an amount nonetheless).

       He walked from the garden into the central room. It was easily the largest room in the palace. Viktor had been crowned in this room. His parents were married in this room. Every royal party was thrown in this room. It acted as a sort of central hub for the castle and the entire kingdom, in a way. It was connected to the garden through the back; although, one could get a better view if they climbed the parallel grand staircases that hugged the sides of the room and walked out into the open-air balcony that overlooked the garden and the rest of the palace grounds. If one walked through the main doors at the font of the room, they would find themselves wandering down a long corridor and finally back at the entrance to the palace. During the party, that corridor would be lined with Kingsmen in traditional uniform. How exciting!

       The most amazing view, however, wasn’t easily accessible through the central room. Only those intimately familiar with the castle knew how to access it. It required traveling to an auxiliary room, walking into a coat closet, ascending an unstable spiral staircase, then walking a small, dusty corridor before you reached it: a balcony that overlooked the entire kingdom. Supposedly it was once attached to the master bedroom, but that was before Viktor’s great-grandparents were born. Many castle repairs and renovations over the years had practically rendered it unreachable, but it still remained one of Viktor’s favorite places in the Four Corners.

       His father had taken his mother there to propose. Viktor hoped to one day have someone he would want to propose to. He was only twenty-seven. There was time yet.

       But first, he’d have to find someone that could love him.

* * *

 

       Later that night, he woke up with a start from a nightmare. _The_ nightmare

       Viktor had left several of his best Kingsmen in Hasetsu with the intention of finding Yuuri and bringing him back to the Capital to be questioned, but even after all this time, they haven’t found a single trace of him. It’s almost like he completely vanished from the Four Corners completely. Most likely, though, he was hiding out in the Forest. They would find him one day, and he would pay for his crimes.

       Sweat clinged to his chest and the sheets stuck to his legs. He sat up and clenched the talisman Grandmother had given him. As much as he would selfishly like to have her by his side every night when he slept, she was an older woman who needed rest. She had given him a strange pendant to wear when he was sleeping to prevent the Night from touching him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t… visit. At first, he stood across the room, watching him all night. Then, after a few days, he moved to sitting at the edge of the bed. Now, he lays beside Viktor. It was certainly unnerving, but, at the same time, endearing. Viktor hated himself for thinking that.

       Tonight, something was different. The Night was weeping. He asked for its thoughts.

       “The Snow Prince wouldn’t understand,” it choked, making Viktor jump. He was hesitant to respond in case he made matters worse, but he couldn’t just ignore it, either.

       “I… can try?” He clenched his talisman harder. He wanted to run and find Grandmother, to beg her to help, but he knew that he had to learn to take care of himself. To have courage. This is _his_ problem, and if he ever wanted to live a normal life again, he would have to fucking solve it.

       “The Snow Prince is home. He can come and go as he pleases. I-“ it began to cry harder, “I may never be able to return home.” Viktor didn’t know to feel about this. It wasn’t new information necessarily, but it felt awful to hear. What could he have possibly taken from the Forest? He had tried asking the Night about it previously, but it always ended up with the Night saying something cryptic like _The Snow Prince knows._ And what’s up with “Snow Prince?” Viktor is a king!

       “If there is anything I can do-,” the Night jumped up, “- _besides_ dying-,” the Night laid back down, “-then please let me know. I don’t want to be in this situation any more than you do, friend.” And he was telling the truth. He could tell that the Night didn’t believe him.

* * *

 

       Otabek vaulted over the final obstacle before crossing the finish line. The course had been difficult, but not as difficult as he trained for. Looking behind him, he realized he had finished ages ahead of the other trainees. Some still seemed to be struggling with the first few obstacles. He had no right to judge them, though. Only himself. And he had done well, so he tore his eyes back to his goal: Prince Viktor Nikiforov, leaning against the large balcony that sat above the military training ground. Beside him, his Cat. He was watching. Taking notes. It was, after all, a member of the royal family who had to personally choose candidates from the military to be inducted into the Order of the Kingsmen. All that stood between Otabek and his dream of becoming a Kingmen was the prince.

       He didn’t hate Prince Viktor. He owed too much to the Royal Family to hate any of them. Honestly, Otabek was just glad he grew up a little. Rumor has it that he used to be a pain in the ass when he was younger. Now he just sat in the shadow of his parents; however, all Otabek’s interactions with Prince Viktor never seemed quite on-beat.

       For example, the first time they ever met face-to-face. It couldn’t have been more than several months ago. Otabek hadn’t been in the military for long, but had quickly shown his potential. For that reason, he was selected out of all the trainees to shadow a member of the Kingsmen while the Prince toured the southern North Corner. They were passing through a small town named after Hasetsu Forest. Prince Viktor, after passing through the town, wandered off into the Forest without telling any of the Kingsmen. Everyone was looking frantically for him, even Otabek. He actually found him easily in a small clearing with a large tree. A dark sense of dread washed over him. Hunter’s instinct.

       “My Prince,” Otabek sighed, “Are you alright? I’m relieved to have found you…”

       “Ah, I’m fine, Otabek,” the Prince said, not turning towards him. Otabek was taken aback.

_He knows my name?_

       “You know, Otabek,” the Prince said, finally facing him. “The Forest is full of dangers. You should return.”

       “Not without you, your highness,” he said, making the traditional Northern salute.

       “I’ll never be able to go back. There’s something in the Forest that’s waiting for me. I think I’ll go and find it…” The prince snapped out of a trance, “…but not now, I guess. Let’s go back!”

       Yeah, that had been weird. That was actually really weird, but Otabek didn’t really want to think much about it. Especially when he was a candidate to become a Kingsmen. And, when he really thinks about, that’s the only thing he’s ever really wanted. To serve his King. To have a purpose. To be given a purpose. To finally stop wondering, lost a soulless, around the world and to have his fucking eyes opened. He was just a kid. He still is just a kid, but he’s exhausted. The military was his last hope, last resort to start living a good, clean, _meaningful_ life. What more could an ex-highway robber ask for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor to the Castle
> 
> sorry this took so long to publish! i might post another chapter this weekend because i missed the past few weeks.


	9. A Visitor to the Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ball begins.

       Getting ready for the party was…actually really fun. Minako had given him some Capitol-acceptable, non-Forest-y clothes to walk around in, and had really made an effort to make him look fashionable. He was just glad he didn’t have to look like he crawled out of a bush while shopping for a suit.

       “I really like this one, Yuuri,” Minako sung, holding up the midnight-blue jacket to his chest.

       “That’s made of fabrics imported from the South. It’s one of the nicest pieces we have in stock. One of a kind. I honestly was a little apprehensive putting it out. People in the Capitol have no style…” the shop owner, a dear friend of Minako’s, sighed.

       “Yeah, just look at all the nobles. They’ll embroider their family name in gold on anything they can get their hands on!” They both laughed. Yuuri had no idea what they were talking about but nervously chuckled to fit in.

       “Shit, Minako! I have the perfect suit for him! Wait here!” He dashed out of sight. Minako put the other suit away and shrugged, smiling. Yuuri took a moment to look at her. She had aged, but she didn’t look old. For the first time in all the years Yuuri had known her, she looked happy. In years past, when Yuuri was younger, he noticed that she only looked truly happy when dancing. But now, she was happy all the time. Smiling, laughing with her friends. He was so grateful that she moved to the Capitol. This is her place.

       “Here we go!” The shop-owner exclaimed, coming from nowhere. “Now this… this is seriously unique. I… I actually made this suit myself. Usually I would never offer one of my original pieces, but this is a special occasion. You’re a special person, Yuuri. I can tell. And Minako is special, too. This suit was made for you, Yuuri, I just didn’t know it!” Yuuri smiled tentatively, looking at Minako for permission.

       “Go ahead. Put it on.”

       He had never really considered himself good looking. He never really needed to. In Hasetsu, looks didn’t really matter. But the Capitol was different. Everyone has a look. Everyone has a style. And Yuuri didn’t know if he would fit in. But looking at himself in this suit, this gorgeous piece of art, he learned something new about himself.

       He was handsome.

       And so was the suit. It was black as coal, black as night, with an elaborate white embroidery that cascaded down his arms from his shoulder to the cuffs. It was simple, but there was something about it which made it absolutely perfect.

       “I… I don’t know what to say…”

       “Well, you can start by telling me if it’s a little tight in the hips. No? Good. Lemme check some other problem areas…” And proceeded to make Yuuri very uncomfortable.

       “Alright, what are we looking at as far as price?”

       “Nothing,” the owner said, face buried firmly between Yuuri’s shoulder blades for some reason.

       “Nothing? Listen, I don’t wanna-“ he interrupted Minako with a sigh.

       “Minako, I have never seen anyone wear my work so beautifully. I would be honored to have Yuuri wear this. I’m serious! Stop laughing!”

       “Well, Yuuri? Do you like it?” He did. He felt… good. Worthy. Loved.

 

 

* * *

 

 

       “King Viktor, everything is ready for the party tonight. The cooks are still busy with the food, but they’re always get done on time…” Viktor beamed and thanked the servant profusely for her hard work. Everything was perfect. He was thrilled. All that’s left is to check to the Kingsmen and make sure that they’re all in proper uniform. It _was_ difficult sometimes to convince them to wear something they couldn’t easily fight in. One time he caught Otabek wearing combat boots with silk pants.

       “ _If something happens, I can run to your side easier.”_

 _“Otabek, if something happens, your shoes wouldn’t handicap you_ that _much. Also, I can defend myself for the most part.”_

_“My job is to make sure you don’t have to.”_

_“Well,” Viktor had said, sighing, “it’s just a dinner with some nobles. The worst thing that could happen is that they think I let my men dress like that.” Otabek had given him a blank look._

       He found all of them running through a few drills in the training grounds. They all took a knee when he walked into sight.

       “Good morning, everyone! I’m so happy so see all of you back at the Castle.” He smiled. “Recently, my world has been dark. But seeing all of you fills my heart with happiness.”  
“My King,” Otabek said, standing, “we want to give you something. In celebration of your journey and your health.” He looked around at his peers before continuing, “We’ve decided, collectively, to renew our vows.” Oh.

       “I… I don’t know what to say.” Viktor’s voice cracked. His men and women. His protectors. His friends. They stood and, instead of performing the traditional Northern military salute, put their hands over their stomachs. An ancient symbol of the Kingsmen for ultimate devotion.

       “ _With my hands_ ,” Otabek shouted, the others repeated.

_I will protect my King._

_I have chosen him._

_And he has chosen me._

       And Viktor cried.

 

* * *

 

 

       In the end, after much debate, they decided to compromise. Minako didn’t have her _own_ carriage, of course, but she _did_ have a lot of friends (a surprising amount of which “had a few laying around,” whatever that meant). Yuuri didn’t understand why they could just walk, but, apparently, the whole situation was more complicated than that. According to Mianko, one must “roll up in style.”

       And they’d need a quick get-away.

       Just in case.    

       The driver, who had come with the carriage, needed no directions to their destination. No one needed directions to the Castle. It beamed as both a symbol of strength and progress and a breathtaking reminder of government-related bullshit. Carved into the largest mountain in the North Corner, it looked as fragile as ice. An ironic reflection of the current monarchy.

       Yuuri too nervous to hold a conversation and Minako not really having anything to say, they rode the entire way in silence. And it ended up being quite a long carriage ride with traffic. After all, everyone who was anyone was invited to the King’s party, and that ended up being a lot of people. This made Yuuri all the more frustrated with having to ride in a carriage. Surely they would have arrived by now if they had just walked!

       But, finally, they reached the mountain and began the worst part of the drive: the upward ascent to the front doors to the Castle. A little Earth magic was involved (as all carriage drivers were required to practice, a surprise to Yuuri) to keep the carriage moving forward on such a steep incline, but, otherwise, it was a smooth ride. Yuuri looked out the tiny window on the door as he felt the floor beneath him level.

       They had arrived.

       The carriage came to a halt. Yuuri took a shaky inhale. He looked over at Minako, then put on his mask. They were lucky that the King chose for his party to be a masquerade. It was almost stupid of him, really. King Viktor had given Yuuri the power of anonymity, and what a dangerous power it was. He felt especially confident knowing that he had made his mask himself, so of course it was flattering. That and his gorgeous suit. And, as he looked down at himself to check that there weren’t any stains on his suit, something inside him clicked. Suddenly, Yuuri felt confident. Yuuri felt… bold. He could do this.

       “Eros,” Ah, his masquerade name, “Let’s go.” The door to the carriage opened and he stepped out after Minako, breathing in the mountain air. It was thin, but Yuuri was unfazed. One hand holding the skirt of her black dress and the other wrapped around Eros’ arm, Minako was escorted to the stairs.

       As they made their way to the main entrance, two massive, wooden doors opened inwards, Eros looked for something. When he found it, he couldn’t help but smile. Right there, embedded deeply in the wood of the left door of the entrance to King Viktor Nikiforov’s royal castle _just_ above eye level and near the hinge, was an arrow. He knew, somehow, that he was the only person that could see that arrow. He felt pride, having penetrated the barrier between the King and the outside world.

       “Is something wrong?” Minako asked, looking Eros in the eye.

       “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking about how far I’ve come.”

       “Are you ready to go in?” He smiled devilishly at her in response, to which she chuckled.

       They reached the last step. Minako had told Eros that, traditionally, the Kingsmen formed two lines running down the entire length of the entrance hallway which led to the ballroom, but he could have never been prepared for this. The corridor was long, and the Kingsmen stood proud, acting as a barrier between the real world and Viktor’s world. It should have made him scared, but Eros couldn’t wait to pass each and every one of them, none the wiser. It was time. It was _his_ time.

       His nerves did kick in, though, as he passed the last few Kingsmen before entering the ballroom. He recognized Otabek immediately, and it seemed like Otabek almost recognized him, too. Their eyes locked.

_Shit! I have to think fast. What wouldn’t Yuuri do?_

       Eros took his free hand and blew a kiss, winking. He couldn’t tell whether Otabek’s eyebrow twitched out of embarrassment or irritation, but he enjoyed that reaction and used it to fuel his confidence. Well, that took care of that. Any suspicion was probably long gone.

       Their entrance to the ball wasn’t grand. In fact, they slid in with relative ease, which was perfect. He wanted to let the party settle into before he confronted the King. He probably needed to talk to some nobles first to find out what Viktor had been doing for the past several months. He looked around briefly for the King and was relieved when he didn’t find him. There would be time for Viktor later.

       Minako squeezed his arm, leading him to the side of the ballroom, towards a circle of people.

       “These are a few of my friends,” she whispered, “they’ll set you up with a few people you may be able to get some information out of.” He nodded.

       “Minako? Is that you?” One said, pointing in their direction.

       “You’re not supposed to recognize me. This is a masquerade after all!” She detached from Eros and hugged a few of her friends.

       “It’s easy to recognize you when your mask is shit! Besides, no one else in the North Corner has a dancer’s body like yours. I would recognize those shoulders anywhere!” Everyone laughed, and Eros joined in.

       “Oh, Minako! Tell us about your date! I never thought you’d be such a cougar…” One friend ran her eyes down his entire body and said to the side, “He’s so handsome!”

       “This is Eros, an old friend of mine. He’s visiting from out of town. There isn’t anyone you all could introduce him to, is there?”

       “Ah, I understand. He’s here on business. In that case, I can show him off to a few higher-ups. They’ll take to a handsome foreigner quick.” One of Minako’s friends took his arm and began to guide him to the other side of the ballroom. He looked over his shoulder one more time at Minako, who gave him a nod. Thank god for Minako.

 

* * *

 

       “My King, you are looking very fine this evening.”

       “Thank you, Christophe. I haven’t worn this suit in ages, but something told me to wear it tonight.” Viktor stood in front of the mirror in his room, checking every part of his outfit for stains and wrinkles. Christophe stood behind him, fixing his collar. He wondered why he hadn’t worn this suit more. He had a tailor from town who owned a clothing store make it for him. According to the store owner, he didn’t really like to sell his own creations. They were pieces of art. But Viktor had convinced him to let him try it on, and, when they discovered that it would fit him perfectly with a few adjustments, the store owner had let him keep it.

       It was almost entirely white, save for the intricate leafy pattern that was embroidered in back thread that ran down the sleeves and sides of his pants. Apparently, this was the tailor’s signature style. He had made another suit, black with white accents, but it hadn’t fit Viktor in any sense, and he was forced to abandon it.

       How tragic!

       “He still looks like an old man, though,” Yurio laughed from one of Viktor’s chairs. kov pinched Yurio’s shoulder. “Yakov!”

       “He looks healthy. That’s what matters.”

       “Healthy and royal,” Christophe added. “Are you ready for your crown, Viktor?” Viktor nodded, and Christophe placed it gently on his head. There was a comfortable silence.

       “Christophe, there haven’t been any issues so far, right?”

       “Right.”

       “And Grandmother has been given a chair beside my throne, along with Yurio? And Yakov?”

       “Yes. I made sure of it myself.”

       “In that case,” Viktor smiled, looking around at his friends, “I believe it’s time for me to make an entrance!”

 

* * *

 

       She sat, looking out the window in her room. It was a beautiful night. Nights like these reminded her of her home in the Forest. She missed the Forest terribly, but she knew that she would have to return to the Castle one day. She always had known. The day she had left she had known.

       Her head snapped up. Something caught her attention. There was someone here. The Forest was here.  
_He_ was here, in his waking form. But the darkness lingered. It was waiting.

       A terrible feeling consumed her. Tonight, the Light and Dark would meet. They had already encountered one another prematurely, but they hadn’t known and they weren’t powerful enough to cause serious damage. But now, things were different. The Dark was stronger, but completely unaware of his true power. And the Light was stronger for having suffered through the consequences of his own actions. But they couldn’t meet yet. There was so much they didn’t understand. She thought there would be more time, but, chuckling to herself, she realizes that there’s never enough time.

       Tonight. Tonight. Tonight.

       Tonight could only be brilliant or tragic.

       She had to warn Yakov.

       “Grandmother! Let’s make an entrance! Are you ready for the party? I had a seat prepared for you…”

       It was already too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor Disguised


	10. A Visitor Disguised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A piece of Yuri's past. The Royal Ball continues. A look into Yakov's youth. A first dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update! Hope you enjoy!!

“I want you to teach me!”

Those were powerful words coming from a boy with a strong ego. But Yakov knew where that ego came from. Egos don’t appear without warning. They’re written like poetry. They come from heroes-turned-kings who fear the past. They come from young men who fear the future. They come from children who fear abandonment. And, in Yuri’s case, they come from a boy who is afraid of the truth. His ego protects him.

Yakov couldn’t allow that.

The rain came down harder. Perhaps a dark road in the middle of a rainy night was not the best time for the boy to have begun this confrontation, and yet there’s no time like the present.

“Then prove to me you’re worth the space you fill.”

That had obviously taken Yuri aback, but he was a fighter. He had been raised by fighters. He grinded his teeth and clinched his fist and that was good. He knew self-control.

“Listen, old man. I’m worth my space and more. And I’ll prove it to you.” Then Yuri used a transformative Light maneuver to turn himself into a large wildcat.

It would definitely been more impressive if Yakov didn’t know every trick in the book. He understood, though, that Yuri had potential. He had determination, something that Yakov’s other royal brats certainly lacked.

But Yuri wasn’t a royal brat. He was a worker, a participator. Impressive for such a small kid. The cooks had taken him in. Unfortunately, he inherited their foul language instead of their grace.

Yakov sighed.

“I’ll teach you,” Yuri transformed back into his regular form. “But every day, you must tell me a truth. Understand? A real truth.”

Yuri nodded, his fatigue showing.

“In that case, we start tomorrow. Meet me in the training room in the morning when you finish working.” 

* * *

They waited outside the ballroom. Christophe stood at the front of the line. Viktor, Grandmother, Yakov, and the Cat followed. Finally, Christophe took a deep breath and slipped out of the door. Viktor couldn’t see him from the hallway, but he could hear his speech. He imaged that Christophe was standing at the top of the staircase, looking suave and cool as ever. He really wasn’t one to get anxious. Viktor often wondered why.

“Good evening, everyone.” The room decrescendo-ed. “I am Christophe Giacometti, and I am the Right Hand of King Viktor Nikiforov. I hope you all have been enjoying your evening. We are so pleased to have all of you.” The room was totally silent at this point. “Now, with that out of the way, I am honored to present King Viktor Nikiforov, Ruler of the Northern Kingdom.” Viktor opened the door with a smile, making his way to the throne. Christophe bowed elegantly, signaling for the ballroom to follow.

“Thank you. You may all rise. I am delighted to host this masquerade tonight in honor of the growth and health of the Northern Kingdom. May we prosper.”

Applause.

“I would also like to introduce tonight’s guest of honor: a representative from the south-eastern region of our beautiful kingdom. I ask that you make her feel welcome into our flourishing capital.”

Grandmother walked in, escorted by Yakov and the Cat, and sat in her designated seat. Viktor saw her eyes linger in the audience for a moment too long, almost fearfully. He looked out to see what could have possibly caught her eye, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Please, continue with your evening, everyone!” The crowd applauded, and Viktor gave a winning smile.

He had forgotten how fun parties were.

* * *

Eros applauded as the King’s speech ended. He put on quite the smile, too. Inside, however, something feral was dying to escape. But he had to hold back. He had to take his time.

“Excuse me, sir, but I noticed that you haven’t danced yet. Would you mind if I had your first dance?” The man speaking was tall and blonde. He wore a gold mask and a dark suit. Nobility.

“I would be honored to dance with a fine man such as yourself…” Eros said, taking his hand. He led them the center of the ballroom and put a hand on the small of Eros’ back., who took a moment to thank his dear friend Minako for years of drilling ballroom dancing technique.

“I can tell you’re not from here,” the man whispered into his ear as they began to spin.

“Ah, you caught me. How did you know?” he softly chuckled, looking into his partner’s eyes.

“You’re far too pretty to be from such a dirty city.”

“Well, I know that you were born and raised here,” Eros laughed. The man pulled him a little closer.

“Oh?”

“You’re a lot of bark, but no bite,” Eros challenged.

“No bite, huh? How’s this for a little bite?” He dipped Eros gently as the music came to a climax and leaned down, their lips almost touching. Suddenly, the music stopped.

“I apologize for the interruption, but may I have this dance?”

* * *

 “Yakov, do you understand why I’ve summoned you to the North Corner?”

“No.” And it’s true. He really had no idea why he received a letter several weeks ago summoning him to this stupid icehouse.

“I want you to teach me magic.”

“All royals with Nikiforov blood are strongly Inclined towards Ice magic. You already should have been able to master it by your teenage years. You should know this, being the Queen.” She chuckled. He crossed his arms Surprised that he could get away with talking to royalty like that. A nobleman would have taken offense.

“Not Ice magic.” Oh. Interesting.

Yakov had heard... things about the royal family. An upside to his line of work is the all-expenses-paid traveling. And shit, no matter where he traveled in the world, he heard things about the Northern royalty.

_Did you hear about the new royal baby?_

_In the North Corner?_

_Yeah. Apparently his parents are trapped in some kind of loveless marriage._

_Arranged?_

_Probably. I think he was some military guy._

_What’d they name the kid?_

_Dmitri._

_Huh. Sounds like Northern royalty._

_My aunt once traveled up there for business. According to the locals, she never makes eye contact with him during speeches and stuff._

_Imagine that._

“I’m no master of magic, your Highness. There’s nothing you can learn from me.”

“I know who you really are, Yakov. And I want you to teach me how to master Light magic.”

“There’s no such thing as mastering Light magic.”

“We both know that’s not true.” She was right. Yakov sighed.

“Alright.” And that was that. Yakov permanently moved into the Palace to mentor the Snow Seeker. They trained every day to the disapproval of her husband, who Yakov severely disliked. But it became apparent that neither the King nor Yakov could influence her decision. Yakov respected that, but her husband was a different story. H He seemed to be upset that he had absolutely no power over her. She was, after all, the one with the royal blood, and she used that to her advantage any chance she could get. The Northern Royalty was complex, their relationships more complex than Yakov could have ever imagined. 

* * *

The biggest surprise, though, was the smallest member of the royal family: Dmitri Nikiforov. When Yakov arrived, he could only be irritated with him. He was mischievous and tireless, blowing snowflakes out of his mouth when he was supposed to be eating, icing the hallways so he could ice skate, singing songs when others were trying to put him to bed. Uncontrollable. Wild. It didn’t take long, however, until he willingly volunteered to read Dmitri to sleep. He was a young man, but he never wanted children. He never thought he could give them a home. But Dmitri taught him to love. He loved Dmitri like a son, and he made the Castle his home. Two years passed.

And then the Queen vanished.

There had been signs that something was off. She had demanded Yakov teach her more advanced techniques. She refused to sleep, to talk to her husband. The royal attendants and advisors dismissed her behavior as a royal temper tantrum, but Yakov knew better.

And when he caught her, cloaked in a dark disguise, in the middle of the night, he should have stopped her.

“What are you doing?”

“Yakov, you wouldn’t understand.” She lowered her eyes.

“I believe that’s my decision to make.”

“I can’t stay here anymore. My home is in the Forest. It needs me.” At the time, he had no idea what she meant. But she seemed so resolute. He couldn’t have stopped her.

“What about your son?” Yakov asked. She met his eyes.

“I can’t take him. He has his own destiny to fill.”

“You’re not even twenty. This world will destroy you.”

“Like it did to you? You’re twenty-two and an alcoholic, Yakov.” Ouch. Well, if she wouldn’t see reason, he would tell her the truth.

“I’m a broken man. I don’t know what I’d do without… this.” This. The castle. A home. Her face softened. She walked towards him, and, when their toes met, she cupped his cheek with her face.

“Stay for Dmitri. His father, that wretched man, will see his violent past catch up to him. Until then, you’ll need to be his father. I’m trusting you with his wellbeing.” She kissed him on the cheek. Everything, _his_ ego, _his_ fear, was washed away. The deep crust coating his soul  crumbled. The only thing he knew to do was wrap his arms around her body and cry into her shoulder.

No, he shouldn’t have let her go, but he couldn’t have stopped her. 

* * *

He hadn’t been sitting on the throne for long before he got a little antsy. He wanted to dance, to party!

“Chris!” He called. Christophe, who had been chatting fondly with several nobles, excused himself from the conversation and strolled over to Viktor’s side.

“Yes, my King?”

“Help me find a first dance!” Chris smiled. It had been a tradition just between the two of them. They would stand at the top of the grand staircase that bleed into the dancefloor, and Chris would choose a partygoer for Viktor to have his first dance with. When they were young and held more parties at the Castle, Chris would often poke fun at Viktor by choosing an older, overbearing noblewoman for his first dance. As they got older, though, Chris began to point him in the direction of handsome young men and women who Chris, somehow, knew were single. How great those times had been!

“Of course, Viktor. Let’s find you a dance.” Viktor stood and was escorted by Christophe to the grand staircase. Below, the partygoers danced, swaying, swirling. Art in motion!

“There, Viktor, look! A man is wearing the other companion suit to yours!” Viktor followed Chris’s pointed finger right to the center of the ballroom where two men were dancing. One was obviously a noble (no one else would dare to wear such a gaudy outfit). The other… Viktor wasn’t sure. He had dark hair and really was handsome. And he had the companion to his suit! It must be fate! Viktor smiled.

“It’s him, then! Thank you, Chris!” Christophe smiled warmly in return.

Viktor began his descent down the stairs. With each step, more heads below him turned. The couple continued to dance, getting closer and closer, oblivious. Finally, as he reached the bottom step, the musicians stopped playing. The blond noble tipped his partner and leaned in. Viktor tapped him on the shoulder just as he was about to steal a kiss.

“I apologize for the interruption, but may I have this dance?”

Both dancers looked up, surprised. Viktor nodded towards the man that was still being dipped.

“Oh, uh, of course, my King…” the noble bowed, and set his partner up. Viktor threw a hand towards the musicians to encourage them to continue playing and a smile towards the audience to encourage them to dance once again.

“May I ask your name?” Viktor asked, kissing the back of his date’s hand.

“Eros.” They assumed their dancing roles. Viktor’s hand rested firmly on Eros’ waist, , Eros’ hand lightly touching Viktor’s shoulder.

Now that they were closer, Viktor could observe closely all the details that made Eros beautiful. He had soft, black hair that had been slicked back for the occasion. Every strand was held perfectly in place, allowing Viktor to see Eros’ face. Well, the parts of his face that weren’t covered by the mask. But, his mask did reveal his eyes. Deep brown, sharp, bottomless. Then, there was his lips, his jaw. He smiled with those lips, but Viktor wasn’t fooled. He knew there was something mischievous hiding behind that smile.

“Eros. Eros. _Eros.”_ They began to dance.

“King of the Northern Kingdom Viktor Nikiforov.”

“King of the Northern Kingdom is fine, thank you,” Viktor poked. Eros laughed, and Viktor decided he liked how it sounded. He would have to thank Chris later. This was the best first dance he had ever been given.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, _my King_ ,” _fuck, please, keep calling me that_ , “but why pick me? Surely there are plenty of other higher ranked individuals for you to choose from…” Viktor understood what Eros was saying. This wasn’t coming from a place of self-consciousness, but genuine surprise. Eros isn’t a noble, Viktor figures. Eros was actually saying, “ _I’m surprised your priority_ isn’t _the nobles.”_

He had to pick his next words carefully to keep from offending his partner.

“I’ve spent my life pleasing the nobles. For once, I wished they’d let an old geezer dance with a gorgeous young man without giving him shit about it.”

“You’re far from old, my King.” Viktor heard a little bit of an accent in the first few syllables. He couldn’t place it, though.

“You’re far from home, my Prince.” He noticed a shiver go through Eros’ arms and was glad his words were having some kind of effect on him. Maybe he could take this opportunity to learn more about him. Viktor didn’t want to get his hopes up, but maybe, just maybe, if everything went right and Eros wasn’t evil or something, this could turn into… something else.

Or maybe he was just lovesick.

“Where are you from?” Eros thought for a moment.

“The South.”

“The South Corner?”

“No, the southern half of the North Corner.” And after he said that, Viktor could hear the accent in his voice. Strange how he didn’t notice it before.

“And who are you here with?” Viktor desperately hoped Eros wasn’t attending his party with his significant other. That would be awful for everyone.

“A childhood friend.” _Fuck yes_.

“You’re a man a few words.”

“You’re a man of many words.”

“You’re a man with gorgeous eyes.”

“You’re a man with few reservations.” Viktor laughed wholeheartedly. He _really_ wanted this to go somewhere.

And, then, they continued to dance.

* * *

And, then, they had _continued_ to dance. Far past the allotted time that is socially acceptable. Finally, at the end of a song, Viktor leaned down to whisper to his partner.

“Eros, can I show you something?” Eros nodded. Viktor released his grip and took Eros by the hand. They escaped into a nearby hallway just as the next song began and couples swarmed the dancefloor.

Too enchanted by Eros, Viktor didn’t notice a woman watch them leave the dancefloor. She excused herself from her conversation and walked out the hallway, nodding to the guards as she left. In fact, he didn’t notice her watching the whole time, eyeing Eros when Viktor turned his back.

“Viktor,” Eros had begun to call him by his given name instead of ‘ _my King’_ earlier that night. He couldn’t remember exactly when, but he liked that change. It was informal, intimate. “Where are you taking me?” Eros was hurried into a small room, then into a coat closet.

“I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but I promise you won’t regret coming with me.” Viktor smiled, then pulled several nails out from a piece of wood paneling on the wall. It came off easily, revealing a spiral staircase.

“Careful, Eros.” He nodded. It wasn’t long before they reached the top: another corridor, far older, dustier, and generally untouched than the other.

“Oh, wow,” Eros gasped, looking at the old artwork that hung on the walls.

“These have been here ever since my grandmother was a little girl.” Eros walked up to one to get a closer look. Viktor liked this side of him. Another mystery to unravel: Eros the art-lover.

“The only artwork like this I’ve seen was pieces that passed through a store in my hometown. We had a few pieces of family friends at our house, but nothing like this…” Eros whispered. Yet another aspect to discover: Eros, the Visitor.

 _But, in a way,_ Viktor thought, _aren’t we all visitors?_

Eros snapped out of the trance he had gotten himself into.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” He said, holding out his hand.

“We’re actually pretty close,” Viktor replied, taking it.

They continued down the hallway until they reached a door at the end. Without letting go of Eros’s hand, Viktor opened the door. Eros walked through.

Viktor watched as he made his way towards the railing and leaned over. He looked down into the sharp drop-off, then leaned back in towards the balcony.

“Viktor,” he gasped, looking back. “It’s beautiful!”

And it was. The world was laid out before him, standing on the balcony of the castle of the Northern Kingdom. It was nighttime, but the lights from the Capitol below them were vibrant. Even the light from other, more distant towns were visible. How beautiful!

“I don’t bring anyone up here, but I wanted to show this to you. I thought you would appreciate it.”

“I… don’t know what to say. Thank you for sharing this with me, Viktor.”  Then they stood, looking out, silent.

They could hear the party continuing beneath them.

“Can I ask you something, Eros?” Eros glanced over at him, not wanting to take his eyes off the view, and nodded. “Can I see more than just your eyes?”

Eros turned back to the view.

Something changed.

“If you saw me, you wouldn’t think of me the same.”

“I-“

“I’m not the person you think I am, Viktor.”

“Eros-“

_Something changed._

“When I came here, I wanted something. And I had worked so hard to get it. And now, I have it. It’s right here, and I’m hesitating.”

“What is it you came here for Eros?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A Visitor Fallen


	11. A Visitor Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Act One

Below, in the corridor leading from the main entrance of the Castle to the ballroom, every enlisted Kingsmen stood. Traditional uniform. Armed.

Otabek stood closest to the ballroom to keep an eye on Viktor, just in case. As the highest ranking Kingsmen, this was his duty.

He hoped, really, he did, that the King would stay out of trouble. But barely five minutes after he sat down, he was prancing down the staircase to meet with the dark haired man who had winked at Otabek on his way in.

And everything about that spelled trouble.

He didn’t want to think that anything was wrong, he really didn’t, especially since he had crashed a few parties more than several times thinking that someone was trying to assassinate the King when really, the King was just trying to “have some alone time…”

“...with a new friend…”

And, yes, he knew that the Viktor was totally capable of protecting himself. He was _supposed_ to be the most powerful ice mage in the world.

But Viktor had a heart of ice, not so much that it was cold but that it was fragile. So, then, he needed to be protected not because he was weak, but because he was strong.

Or, thought he had to be.

So Otabek did nothing the entire night. Even when the King ran off with the dark-haired man, Otabek did nothing.

But when the man’s date left the party early, smirking and alone, he became worried. She looked at him mischievously, and he was reminded of a moment. She passed him, long hair brushing against her back. Her mask didn’t cover much.

_Who’s this?_ He had said, pointing to a painting of a dancer posing. Hasetsu. Yuuri.

_A family friend. She was Yuuri’s dance teacher, but moved to the Capitol a while ago… Darling, what does she do in the Capitol now?_ She had asked her husband. Otabek couldn’t remember Yuuri’s mother’s name, despite the grief he had caused her. How awful of him.

_She took over her uncle’s bar. I hear she’s some pretty hot stuff now, too._ He said, laughing. _Yuuri misses her, though. She was really a mentor to him growing up. He said he wants to travel to the Capital to see her one day. I hope he can._

The two women were strikingly similar; Otabek didn’t know why he could tell. If only he could remember her name. He was sure the Katsuki’s had mentioned it, but she was already half-way down the corridor. If he didn’t act fast, he would never know.

He had to remember.

_Think, think! It started with an M… Min… Ma…_

Otabek peered down the hall and saw she was almost at the door.

_Mam… Mina…. Minako! Minako!_

He jumped out of line, startling the other Kingsmen.

“Minako! Minako!”

And she turned back, also startled.

The dark-haired man had to be Katsuki Yuuri, yes, he was sure now.

The King was in terrible danger.

 

* * *

 

 

“What is it you came here for Eros?”

Eros put his elbows against the stone railing of the balcony, looking over the edge once again. A motion he had done several times before.

If it was dark before, it was really dark out now. It almost seemed like the light coming from the Capital below had dimmed.

Eros took a moment to take in the view before looking him in the eye. Now, it was if the light coming from the stars above had dimmed and were being sucked into Eros’ eyes. It was beautiful, and it was destructive. His hair was darker now, and his eyes, too, had faded into black.

He stood, still making eye contact with the King, and slowly released the ribbon tying his mask to the back of his head.

It fell from his face and was caught by the wind. Viktor watched from the corner of his eye as it drifted from the balcony and off into the darkening world.

Katsuki Yuuri.

“What I came here for, Snow Prince?”

Yuuri grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forced him over the railing of the balcony. He hung, like a ragdoll. Broken. Limbless. Paralyzed.

A large, black dog busted through the door that led from inside the Castle to the balcony where Viktor was hanging off the edge. Otabek. He charged towards Yuuri.

_No, this isn’t Katsuki Yuuri_ , Viktor thought, watching his skin turn black, starting at the area around his eyes and flowing all the way to his fingertips.

 “Revenge.”

_This is Darkness._

And, then, he fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh here it is! The End of Act One! I've already started writing Act Two, but I'm not sure what the time frame is going to look like. I know this one didn't have a traditionally happy ending, but that will make the real, final ending seem even better... right? Anyways, I'm actually really happy with how this entire work turned out, but I'd love to hear your feedback. My inbox is always open, and my tumblr is musicofyoi if you're interested in talking there. Thank you for reading this far! It really, really means a lot to me <3
> 
> -Murphy


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